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JESSICA 


THE 


HEIRESS 


EVELYN RAYMOND 

AUTHOR OF 

“Jessica Trent,” “Breakneck Farm,” etc. 


NEW YORK 

THE FEDERAL BOOK COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 









lUBRfcBv ooweRitSS 
Two r-op'PS RfWflivwJ 

SEP 30 1904 

Oo^eht Entry 

X./q 

-CLASS Ct XXo. No. 
COPY B 




Copyright, 1904 
By The Federal Book Company 

Jessica, the Heiress 


C t 

c < c 


\ 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I— Jessica Disappears 

II — The Hush of Anxiety . 

III— Old Century Takes the Trail 

IV — Deliverance . 

V— Jessica’s Story . 

VI — Behind Locked Doors . 

VII— A Royal Gift . 

VIII— The Face at the Window 

IX — The Prisoner Disappears . 

X — On the Road Home 

XI — The Passing of Old Century 

XII — The Rebellion of the Lads 

XIII— Ned’s Story . 

XIV — Taking the Doctor’s Advice 

XV — Ninian’s Greeting 

XVI — Jessica Gets Her Wish . 

XVII— The Cactus Hedge 

XVIII — What the Sabbath Brought 
XIX — Antonio’s Confession 

XX— The Verdict . 

XXI— Conclusion , 


PAGE 

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21 

31 

42 

52 

62 

74 

83 

95 

105 

117 

129 

140 

150 

161 

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183 

194 

204 

218 

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JESSICA, THE HEIRESS 


CHAPTER I. 

JESSICA DISAPPEARS. 

Mrs. Benton and Jessica were upon the south porch of 
the Sobrante ranch house, the former busy as usual, the 
latter idly enjoying her charming surroundings as she 
swung to and fro in her hammock. 

Mighty vines of pale yellow roses, intermingled with 
climbing fuchsias, cast shade and sweetness over them ; the 
porch was bordered by a wide swath of calla lilies, also in 
full flower, while just beyond these a great shrub of poin- 
settia dazzled the sight with its gleaming scarlet blossoms. 

When a momentary silence of the other’s nimble tongue 
allowed her to speak, Jessica exclaimed : 

‘‘Aunt Sally, you’re the only person I know who can 
do three things at once. You sew as fast as you rock, and 
talk faster than either. You’re a very clever woman.” 

The old lady answered complacently, as she bit off a 
fresh needleful of thread and looked at her companion 
over her spectacles : 

‘‘Yes, dearie, I expect I am. I can do more’n that, too. 
I can keep up a powerful thinking.” 


10 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“About what, pray?” 

“How that life is a patchwork quilt. All the colors of 
the rainbow, and some that any self-respectin’ rainbow 
would scorn to own. Some scraps so amazing homely you 
hate to put ’em in, but just have to, else there wouldn’t be 
blocks enough to square it out.” 

“What sort of a scrap am I, Aunt Sally ?” 

“Huh ! Fair to middlin’. Neither very light, nor very 
dark. You’d be prettier, to my notion, if you’d fetch a 
needle and thread and sew a seam with me, ’stead of 
swinging yourself dizzy out of pure laziness.” 

“Now, Aunt Sally ! I call that unkind ! I hate to sew.” 

“I believe you. You’ll never put a stitch where a pin 
will do. But, never mind. If everybody else sets out to 
spoil you, I don’t know as it’s my call to interfere.” 

There was so much tenderness in the glance that accom- 
panied these words that nobody could resent them; least 
of all the girl, who now sprang from the hammock and 
curled herself at the other’s feet. 

“Tell me those ^powerful’ thoughts, auntie, dear.” 

Mrs. Benton sighed, but responded, nothing loath: 

“There’s your mother, Gabriella. Only child, left an 
orphan, raised by a second cousin once removed, who’d 
more temper than sense, and when your mother fell in love 
with your father, who’d more goodness than cash, shut 
the door on them both forthwith. So off they come to 
Californy and pitch their tent right here in the spot.” 

“They couldn’t have chosen a lovelier place,” their 


JESSICA DISAPPEARS. 


11 


daughter answered, with a sweeping glance over the fair 
land which formed her home. 

‘That’s true enough. Then him getting that New York 
company to buy Paraiso d’Oro Valley, so’s a lot of folks 
that was down in the world could come out here and live 
in it. Poor Cass’us dying, just as he’d got things to his 
liking; the losing of the title deed and your journeying to 
Los Angeles to get it back.” 

“Not ‘lost,’ Aunt Sally. Poor Antonio hid it at El De- 
sierto, in the cave of the Three Rocks. He ” 

“Cat’s foot ! Don’t you go to ‘pooring’ that snaky 
sneak, or you and me’ll fall out. I should hate that.” 

“So should I. But you’ve set me thinking, too. How 
wonderful that Mr. Ninian Sharp was, the newspaper 
man. If it hadn’t been for him, we’d never have won that 
battle. What could I have done, with Ephraim Marsh in 
hospital, and I knowing nothing about the city? That 
Mr. Hale was another splendid man. I can understand 
how he had to keep his word and do his best for the com- 
pany which thought father had wronged it ; and I can also 
understand that he was as glad as we to find their money 
safe with the poor banker who was killed, Luis Garcia’s 
father.” 

“ ‘Pooring’ again, are you ? Another scamp, too.” 

“Oh, Aunt Sally! He’s — dead!” remonstrated Jessica, 
in awestruck tones. 

“And a fine job he is. There’s plenty of good-for- 
noughts still living. A man that’s been wicked all his life 
ain’t apt to turn saint at the end of it. I like folks that do 


12 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


their duty as they go along. If the robber, Garcia, had got 
well he’d likely claimed our Luis and reared him to be as 
bad as himself.” 

“Aunt Sally, you’re uncharitable this morning. What’s 
made you so?” 

“The plumb meanness of human natur’.” 

“Your own ?” asked the girl, teasingly. 

“No, saucebox. My boy, John’s. His, and all the rest 
of ’em.” 

“Toward whom?” 

“Oh ! ’tisn’t toward anybody, out and out. If it was I’d 
roll up my sleeves and switch the lot of ’em, just as if 
they were the little tackers they act like. It’s them pesky 
hints and shrugged shoulders, every time the Dutch Win^ 
klers or ‘Forty-niner’ is spoke of. I wish to goodness that, 
man’d come home and clear his name, or give me the 
chance to do it. He no more stole that knitting-woman’s 
money than I did.” 

“Aunt Sally! Stole? Stole! My Ephraim! Why, 
you must be crazy !” 

“There, it’s out. Needn’t hop up like that, mad as a 
hornet, at me. I’m not the one hints and shrugs. It’s the 
whole lot of your precious ‘boys’ — boys, indeed! and 
needing spanking more’n they ever did in their lives.” 

Jessica’s swift pacing of the wide porch came to a sud- 
den halt, and she dropped down again at Mrs. Benton’s 
feet, feeling as if the floor had given way beneath her 
tread. 

“This, then, was what my mother meant, that very day 


JESSICA DISAPPEARS. 


13 


when I came back, that Ephraim was happier where he 
was! The dear old fellow; thrown to the street by his 
graceless Stiffleg; picked up with a leg full of broken 
bones ; a prisoner in a hospital all these weeks ; giving all 
his savings of years to us ; and the ‘boys’ he’s lived with 
since before I was born accusing him of — theft! Aunt 
Sally, it’s too monstrous to be true!” 

“ ’Tis, indeedy. Seem’s if the Evil One had been let 
loose, here at Sobrante, when the word of a half-wit — poor 
half, at that — is held proof against the entire life of an 
honest old man.” 

Aunt Sally was so deeply moved that, for once, she al- 
lowed herself a moment’s respite from unceasing industry, 
unconsciously holding a patchwork block to her moist eyes, 
and slowly swaying the great rocker as she sorrowfully 
reflected that : 

“I raised him the best I could, that boy John. I gave 
him a pill once a W’eek, regular, to keep his bile down. I 
washed him every Saturday night, and spanked him after 
I got through. I never let him eat butter when he had 
gravy, and I made him say his prayers night and morning. 
I had a notion that such wholesome rearin’ would turn 
him out a decent man; and now, just see!” 

In spite of her own distress, Jessica laughed. 

“Aunt Sally, if anybody but yourself hinted that John 
wasn’t a ‘decent’ man you’d do something dreadful to 
punish the slanderer.” 

“Suppose I should? Wouldn’t I have a right? Ain’t he 
my own?” 


14 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


Jessica smiled faintly, but sat for a long time silent. 
The talkative woman in the rocker also kept silence, brood- 
ing over many things. Finally she burst forth : 

‘T don’t see why it is that just as soon as a body gets 
into smooth sailing, along comes a storm and upsets things 
again. There was your mother, beginning to feel she 
could go ahead and do what her husband wanted to, and 
now here’s this bad feeling among her trusted hired 
men. Suspicion is the pisenest yarb that grows. The 
folks that could suspect old ‘Forty-niner’ of wrong things’ll 
be plumb ready to watch out for one another. Somebody’ll 
be caught nappin’, sure. ’Tisn’t in human natur’ to walk 
upright all the time, and it’s foolish to expect it. But — 
shouldn’t wonder if Fd be the next one accused. And it 
cornin’ Christmas time, too. Land ! I’m so bestead I’ve 
sewed that patch in wrong side up. What? Hey? You 
laughin’? I don’t see anything funny in this business, 
myself,” said the old lady, fretfully. 

“You would if you could look in a glass ! Your face is 
all streaked purple and green, where you cried on your 
patch,” explained Jessica, whose grief had changed to 
amusement. 

“You don’t say! I knew them colors’d run. John 
fetched the piece from Marion, last time he went for the 
mail. Of the two stores there, I don’t know which is the 
worst. Their ‘Merrimac’ won’t wash, and their flannel 
shrinks, and their thread breaks every needleful. But, to 
‘Boston’ — dear me I Whatever did make me think of that 
place! Now Fve thought, it’ll stick in my mind till it 


JESSICA DISAPPEARS. 


15 


drives me wild — or back there, and that’s about the same 
thing. To go live with that slimsy cousin of mine, after 
being in the same house with your mother, is like falling 
off a roof into a squshy mud puddle. That’s all the sense 
and substance there is to Sarah, that was a Harrison be- 
fore she was a Ma’sh. I warrant she’s clean out of medi- 
cine and money, for she’s a regular squanderer when it 
comes to makin’ rag rugs. I wish you could see ’em ! I 
just wish’t you could. Such dogs and cats as she weaves 
into ’em would have druv’ Noah plumb crazy if he’d had to 
take ’em into the Ark. Their eyes are just round rings 
of white, with another round ring of black in the mid- 
dle ” 

“Aren’t rings always round, auntie, dear?” 

“No, they ain’t. Not after they’ve been trod on !” was 
the swift retort, as the old lady pointed downwards toward 
the floor of the porch. 

Both stooped and rose again, astonishment deepening 
upon their faces as Jessica held out her open palm with 
the injured trinket lying upon it. 

“Elsa Winkler’s wedding ring! How came it here?” 

“How, indeed? I don’t believe that woman’s been on 
these premises since I came.” 

“Even if she had. Aunt Sally, why should she bring the 
ring with her? It was always too small for her, and she 
never had it on except during the marriage ceremony. 
I’ve often heard her laugh about it ; how Wolfgang bought 
a ring as big as his money would pay for, and let it go at 
that. She didn’t see what difference it made whether it 


16 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


went only on the tip of her finger or all the way down it. 
But she must have been here, even if we didn’t know it. 
I’ll take it straight to mother to keep. Then, too. I’ve 
idled enough. I promised my dear I’d write all her Christ- 
mas invitations for her, because she says it will save her 
the trouble, and be such a help to my education.” 

"‘Christmas! Well, well. Does seem aS if I couldn’t 
leave before then, nohow. And hear me, Jessie, darlin’, 
don’t you let your poor ma worry her head over your book 
learning. Being she was a schoolma’am herself makes 
her feel as if she wasn’t doing the square thing by you 
letting you run wild, so to speak. If the Lord means you 
to get schoolin’ He’ll put you in the right way of it, don’t 
you doubt. Who all does Gabriella set out to ask here 
to visit ?” 

“Mr. Hale, of course; and dear Mr. Sharp. I hope 
Ephraim will be well enough to come, too. Then there are 
the Winklers, from the mine ; the McLeods, from their inn 
at Marion ; and, maybe — we’ve never had a Christmas 
without him — maybe poor Antonio.” 

“Well, all I say is — if you ask him you needn’t ask me. 
There wouldn’t be room on this whole ranch for the pair 
of us.” 

“Then, of course, it’s you first. Yet, it’s all so puzzling 
to me. If it’s a time of ‘peace and good will,’ why do peo- 
ple keep on feeling angry with one another?” 

“Jessica Trent, dast you stand there and look me in the 
face and say you have forgive that sneaky snaky manager 
for cheating your mother like he did?” 


JESSICA DISAPPEARS. 


17 


“He was sorry, Aunt Sally. Every letter he sends here 
tells that.” 

“Fiddlesticks !” 

“And he's punished, isn’t he, even if the New York 
folks let him go free, by his disappointment? I can fancy 
how dreadful it would seem, did seem, to think this beau- 
tiful ranch was one’s own, and then suddenly to learn that 
it was not.” 

“Oh ! Jessie ! You try my soul with your forgivin’ and 
forgivin’. Next you know you’ll be sorry for Ferd, the 
dwarf, though ’tis he himself what’s started all this bob- 
bery against ‘Forty-niner,’ and eggs them silly Winklers 
on to be so — so hateful. I’m glad that witless woman did 
lose her ring, and I hope it’ll never be straightened out. I 
guess I’m out of conceit with everybody living, not ex- 
ceptin’ old Sally Benton, herself !” 

With this home thrust at her own ill temper, the whim- 
sical woman betook herself and her dangling array of 
patchwork to Mrs. Trent’s sitting-room ; there to discuss 
the prospects for holiday festivities and to take account of 
stock, in the way of groceries on hand. Deep in the sub- 
ject of pies and puddings, they forgot other matters, till a 
wild whoop outside the window disturbed them, and they 
beheld Ned and Luis, painted in startling “Indian fash- 
ion,” mounted upon a highly decorated horse, which had 
never been seen in the Sobrante stables. 

“Hi, there, mother! Your money or your life!” 

“Money — life I” echoed Luis, clinging to his playmate’s 
waist and peeping over his shoulder. 


18 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


The horse was rearing and plunging more dangerously 
each second, and both women rushed to the rescue of the 
imperiled children, who realized nothing of their danger, 
but shouted and screamed the louder the more frantic their 
steed became. Mrs. Trent caught the bridle, and Aunt 
Sally snatched first one, then the other, child from the 
creature’s back, who, as soon as he was relieved of his 
yelling burden, started at a gallop across the garden, ruin- 
ing its beds and borders on his way. 

“Oh, oh! Children, how could you? Whose horse is 
that? Where did you get that paint? How shall I ever 
make you clean?” 

“ril tend to that part, Gabriella. You just call a boy 
to fix them flower beds before the plants wither. Oh, you 
rascals I You won’t forget this morning’s fun in a hurry, I 
warn you ! You’ve been in John Benton’s paint pots again. 
Well, you like paint, you shall have it, and all you want 
of it, too. Red and yeller, green and pink, with a 
streak of blue. H’m ! You’re a tasty lot, ain’t you 1” 

The lads squirmed and twisted, but Aunt Sally’s grip 
merely tightened upon them so that, finally, they ceased 
struggling and allowed her to lead them whither she 
would, which was to the small laundry, that stood at some 
slight distance from the house. Here she sternly regarded 
each bedaubed, but otherwise nude, little figure, with so 
fierce an expression upon her usually pleasant face that 
the young miscreants winced, and Ned cried out: 

“Quit a-talking eyes at me that way. Aunt Sally Ben- 
ton ! I don’t like it.” 


JESSICA DISAPPEARS. 


19 


'‘Oh! you don’t, eh? Well, what’d you disgrace your- 
selves this way for, if ’twasn’t to make folks stare? 
Where’s your clothes?” 

“I don’t know.” 

"Very well, then I’ll help you to remember.” 

"I won’t be whipped ! I’ll tell my mother !” shrieked 
Ned, retreating toward the closed door of the building. 

"Won’t be whipped, old Aunt Sally 1” added Luis, clasp- 
ing his leader; whereupon the customary scuffle ensued; 
for, no matter what their business in hand, personal con- 
tact always insured a slight passage at arms. At present, 
this diverted their thoughts from what might be in store 
at the will of their mutual enemy, and it came with ap- 
palling suddenness. Each small boy was lifted, bidden 
to shut his eyes and mouth, then plunged downward into 
a barrel of some cold, slippery stuff. Here he was 
soused vigorously up and down, until every portion of his 
skin was smeared with the sticky mess ; after which he was 
placed upon his feet once more and commanded : 

"Now, son, you just stand there and dreen a spell. 
Lucky I made that barrel of soft soap last week. It’s just 
the stuff to take this paint off, and what drips from you 
to the old adobe floor won’t hurt. Pasqual’s a master 
hand at scrubbin’, and I’ll give him the job of you and 
the floor both. Reckon you’ll wish you hadn’t ever seen 
paint pots time he gets through. Now — where’s your 
clothes?” 

Ned was silent, but Luis "guessed they’s under a tree.” 

"Well, son Garcia, knowing is better than guessing ’bout 


20 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


now. Me and Santa Claus is sort of partners, and he’s 
due here soon. ’Twon’t take me the jerk of a lamb’s tail 
to write and teh him how things stand at Sobrante, and 
whose stockings’d better have switches ’stead of goodies 
in ’em. Hear me? Where’s your clothes?” 

A laugh caused Aunt Sally to glance through the win- 
dow, where Jessica was an amused spectator of the scene 
within. She now begged : 

“Don’t be hard on the little tackers, auntie, dear. That 
was Prince, Mr. Hale’s horse, that Pedro has tended on the 
mesa all these days. Pll find out how they came by it, and 
their clothes at the same time. Tell mother, please,” and 
with a merry nod to the unhappy urchins, so shamefacedly 
“dreening” at Mrs. Benton’s pleasure, she disappeared. 

Disappeared not only from the window, but, apparently, 
from life, as suddenly and completely as if the earth had 
opened and engulfed her. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE HUSH OF ANXIETY. 

Mrs. Trent and Aunt Sally sat down alone to dinner. 
The little lads were in their beds, recovering from the 
sound scrubbing Pasqual had given them. Clothed in 
fresh nightgowns, and refreshed by generous bowls of 
bread and milk, they had been left in a darkened room to 
reflect upon the hard ways of transgressors. But reflec- 
tion was unusual work for their active brains, and they 
had promptly fallen asleep; hence the profound peace 
which rested upon the house. 

“I wonder where Jessica is? She was to have written 
my letters for me, but I haven’t seen her since breakfast,” 
said the mother, somewhat anxiously. 

“Oh! she’s around somewhere. Was at the laundry 
window while I was tending to the children, and said she’d 
go find their clothes. In all my born days I never saw 
two small heads could hatch the mischief Ned’s and Luis’ 
can. It’s out of one scrape into another, and seems if they 
must break their necks some day.” 

“Oh I don’t forecast evil. Their pranks keep my nerves 
on tension all the time, yet I shouldn’t worry so. They 
always escape from harm. But I’d like to know how they 
got that horse.” 

“So would I. They must have had help painting it. 
Stands to reason two midgets like them couldn’t have kept 


22 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


a high-spirited creatur’ quiet while they wasted enough 
good paint on him to cover a meeting house.” 

‘John won’t be pleased. He’s so careful of his belong- 
ings, even I never touch them without permission,” said 
the ranch mistress, smiling afresh at the memory of the 
ridiculous picture the boys had made. 

“Don’t surprise me’t you laugh, Gabriella, but you’d 
ought to put the reins on tighter to them chaps, lest first 
you know they’ll be driving you, not you them. Do it 
already, seems if.” 

“How can I be stern with Cassius’ little son? Every 
day I see more resemblance to his father in the child’s 
face; yes, and in his nature, too. Nobody was ever 
fonder of fun than my husband, yet surely there never was 
a better man.” 

“Oh! Neddy’s all right. Trouble is to keep him from 
thinkin’ so himself. But, there. Why don’t you eat your 
dinner? You haven’t more’n half touched it. It’s a 
shame to waste good victuals, and these are good. I 
fixed ’em myself.” 

The other smiled again at the complacency visible upon 
her friend’s face, which so innocently displayed the same 
feeling that had just been deplored in Ned. However, 
Aunt Sally was too busy with her own food to notice 
anything else, and it seemed long to her companion before 
she had finished and risen, to call, sharply : 

“Pas-qual 1 Oh, Pasqual-ly ! Why aren’t you on hand 

to clear the table? Don’t you know I’ve got ” and 

here followed a long list of things to be done, more than 


THE HUSH OF ANXIETY. 


23 


many could accomplish in several days. Each had some 
reference to the coming holidays, and the house boy un- 
derstood this. He entered, more willingly than usual, 
grinning with anticipation of the raisins he would have to 
stone, the nuts he must crack, and the goodly samples of 
each that he would surreptitiously procure. 

Mrs. Trent asked him to put aside Miss Jessica’s din- 
ner, till she came in, and to be sure that it was also kept 
nice and warm. 

“All right, lady. I’ll do that good enough. Don’t mind 
what I has to do for ‘Lady Jess’ and immediately seized 
the plate, which Aunt Sally had already filled, to place 
it in the warming oven. 

Then the mother went out, and among the adobe build- 
ings, which formed the “boys” quarters and the business 
part of the ranch, calling gently, as she went, in the 
brooding sort of note which had long been a signal be- 
tween her and her child. But no Jessica responded ; and, 
to her fancy, it seemed that the whole place was strangely 
silent. 

“After all, that is not to be wondered at. The men are 
done with dinner, and gone about their work. The boys 
are asleep, and only Jessica would be anywhere near. 
What can keep her, I wonder ?” and with this thought 
the lady again uttered the tender call which would sum- 
mon her daughter, if she were within hearing. 

Then she returned to the house and tried to accept 
Aunt Sally’s theory that, “likely some of them ‘boys’ is in 
trouble about his job, and wants his ‘captain’ to go over- 


24 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


see. ’Mazin’ strange, Gabriella, what a influence that 
child has over ’em. They ’pear to think, the whole lot of 
’em, that she can straighten out all the kinks that get into 
brains or business.” 

“She is quick to understand,” said the mother, proudly. 

“Course. Nothin’ strange, is it, seeing who her folks 
was ? Best go take a nap, honey.”. 

“Oh, no! Thank you for suggesting it, but I’m too 
wakeful.” 

“Well, then. I’ll fetch them kerns and citron right out 
on the kitchen porch. The sun’s off it now, and there 
ain’t a prettier spot on earth where to prepare Christmas 
fixin’s. I’ll fetch the raisins and stone ’em myself. That 
Pasky boy’d eat more’n half of ’em, if I left ’em to him. 
Then we can visit right sociable ; and I can free my mind. 
The truth is, Gabriella Trent, that I ought to be har- 
nessin’ Rosetty an’ Balaam this minute, and be startin’ for 
^Boston.’ ” 

“Oh, Aunt Sally !” protested the ranch mistress, in real 
distress. 

“There, dearie, hush! Don’t worry. I said T ought,’ 
I didn’t say I was goin’. Seem’s if I couldn’t just tear 
myself away from Sobrante. If Sarah Ma’sh, she that 
was a Harrison, and married Methuel, hasn’t got gump- 
tion enough to bile her own plum puddin’, I ’most feel as if 
she’d ought to go without. Though I don’t know as that’s 
real Christian in me.” 

“Dear Mrs. Benton, I wish everybody was as sincere 
a Christian as you are.” 


THE HUSH OF ANXIETY. 


25 


In her surprise, Aunt Sally tipped her rocker so far 
back that she just escaped upset. 

“Why, Gabriella Trent! Me! Me! Don’t say that, 
and make me feel meaner’n dirt. It’s you, honey, is 
that ” 

Mrs. Trent laughed as she answered : 

“We make a mutual admiration society, don’t we? But, 
Aunt Sally, you mustn’t think of leaving Sobrante before 
the holidays are past. I can’t spare you. I need the help 
of your head, as well as your hands, and what would 
Christmas be to the children, if you weren’t here to cuddle 
and scold them after their greediness has made them ill.” 

“Well, well, child, say no m.ore. Here I am, and here 
I’ll stay, if Sarah Ma’sh don’t get a stiver of pudding or 
fowl. Here, honey, I reckon you best slice this citron. 
You’ve got a dainty hand for such work and — my sake’s 
alive ! That fruit cake’d ought to been made weeks ago, if 
it was to get any sort of ripeness into it before it was et ! 
Hurry up, do. We haven’t a minute to waste.” 

This adjuration had the good result of amusing Mrs. 
Trent so that, for an hour at least, she forgot to be anx- 
ious over her daughter’s unexplained absence. Aunt Sally 
was a person who was always “driven to death” by the 
mere thought of tasks for which there was, in reality, 
ample time. But now that she had decided to rem.ain at 
the ranch for a further indefinite stay, her spirits rose 
and her brain busied itself with a thousand plans for the 
comfort or amusement of the household, over which she 
domineered, yet so ardently loved. 


26 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“We haven’t got much money for presents, I know. 
So I’ll just get out the piece-bag to-night, and press off 
them canton flannel scraps. They’ll make splendid ducks 
for the youngsters ” 

“I fear that would be wasted labor, friend. The little 
lads have outgrown homemade toys. Nothing that will 
not make a noise is acceptable to them. I’d thought of 
sending over to Marion for drums and whistles, if the 
stores there can furnish them.” 

“Well, Gabriella Trent ! I declare you are the benight- 
enest woman that ever set out to raise children ! Drums ! 
For them two? My, my! But what won’t a mother do 
for her little ones. I’d like to know 1” 

The words were no sooner out of Mrs. Benton’s mouth 
than she regretted them. At the name of “mother” Mrs. 
Trent’s forced gayety vanished, and she lifted her eyes to 
her companion’s face with a pitiful appeal. 

“Aunt Sally, what has happened to Jessica ?” 

“Nothing, honey. Nothing in the world. What a mas- 
ter hand you are to worry.” 

The lady rose so hastily that the dish upon her lap slid 
to the floor, and the other laughed : 

“There, Gabriel, you do beat all. If I’d dropped that 
dish ’tw^ould have upset, and every slice of citron in it 
rolled whitherty-yonder. But for you — it knew better; 
just slipped off as slick as could be, landed right side up, 
and not a morsel scattered. Seem’s if dirt nor nothin’ dis- 
orderly ever could come a-nigh you, honey.” 


THE HUSH OF ANXIETY. 


27 


Mrs. Trent did not even hear. Upon her face had 
grown a look that hurt Aunt Sally to see; the more be- 
cause the feeling it expressed was continually increasing 
within her own heart. 

Where could Jessica be? Many hours had passed since 
she vanished from the laundry window, and if she had 
gone upon any errand for her “boys,” she would have re- 
turned long since. Also, she would be swift to restore the 
missing clothes of the little boys, as soon as found, for 
she knew they would be prisoners within doors till she 
had done so. 

“Don’t you worry, I tell you, Gabriella. I’ll take the 
great horn and blow a blast will fetch the whole ker- 
boodle back here, hot foot. If that don’t. I’ll ring the mis- 
sion bell ! That’ll mean trouble, sure enough, and its 
dreadful racket’ll reach clear to Los Angeles, ’pears.” 

The mother crossed to the lattice and leaned against its 
post. Something was wrong with her darling. She knew 
that as well as if she had been told so by word of mouth, 
and a dreadful numbness stole over her whole frame. As 
if in a dream, she saw Aunt Sally emerge from the lean-to, 
where the great horn was kept, and raise the thing to her 
lips; but the blast which followed seemed to have been 
ringing in her ears forever. The silence that succeeded 
lasted but a moment, yet was like an eternity. Then from 
one direction, and another, came the ranchmen, under- 
standing that there was need of their presence at the 
“house,” and each quickly catching something of the fear 
so plainly depicted upon the faces of the waiting women. 


28 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“John Benton, where’s ‘Lady Jess’?” demanded Aunt 
Sally, with terrible sternness. 

“Why, mother, how should I know? I was off to the 
lemon house early, fixing some shelves. I haven’t seen 
her to-day — and that makes it a long one.” 

Came “Marty” from his garden, a hoe over one shoul- 
der and a mighty vine of ripened tomatoes over the other, 
exclaiming : 

“How’s this for a second year’s growth? I thought 
you’d like ’em for catsup, Aunt Sally, and what’s the horn 
for?” 

“George Cromarty, where’s the ‘captain’ ?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t ! You don’t !” indignantly. 

“No. How should I? Last I saw, she was sitting on 
the porch along with you. You needn’t glare at me so, but 
say yourself : ‘Where’s the “captain” ?’ ” 

“Come, gardener, this ain’t a time for foolin’.” 

He disdained to answer, reading the anxiety upon his 
mistress’ face, and feeling an unaccountable one growing 
in his own mind. 

It was a relief to all when the great figure of Sailor 
Samson came into view, making for the cottage with those 
firmi strides of his, that seemed to cover the distance with 
incredible speed. He was always to be depended upon in 
an emergency, and there was good cheer in his tones as, 
having been asked the same question which had greeted 
his mates, he tossed back the light answer: 

“Why, I don’t know just at this minute, but I’ll wager 


THE HUSH OF ANXIETY. 


29 


wherever she is, she’s doing good to somebody, or finish- 
ing up some fellow’s neglected job. Why? Ain’t scared 
of ‘Lady Jess,’ are you?” 

“That’s just what we are, herder. She’s no hand to run 
ofif an’ stay off without tellin’ where to ; and if she couldn’t 
find the children’s clothes she’d been back before now to 
say so. Somethin’ dreadful has happened to the precious 
girl, and you needn’t say there hasn’t !” wailed Mrs. Ben- 
ton ; adding, in fresh dismay, as the ranch mistress quietly 
sank to the floor in a faint ! “There ! Now I have done 
it ! Oh ! that tongue of mine !” 

“Yes, old woman ! ‘That tongue of yours’ has wrought 
a heap of mischief in its day,” cried Samson, angrily, as he 
lifted the fallen lady and carried her into the house. 

But Aunt Sally was quite herself again, and put him 
coolly aside, while she ministered to the unconscious ranch 
mistress, and, at the same time, gave him a succinct his- 
tory of the morning’s events. Everybody at Sobrante 
knew the deep devotion of Lady Jess to her widowed 
mother, and the thoughtfulness with which she always 
sought to prevent her loved one’s “worrying,” and all 
realized that there might be something seriously amiss in 
this protracted, unexplained absence. However, and to a 
certain degree, the child was allowed to be independent, 
and she was liable to reappear at any moment and to gibe 
at their “foolish fear” for her. But to summon her, at 
once, was the surest way of comforting Mrs. Trent, and 
Samson went out again to distribute the assembled ranch- 
men into searching parties, with the injunction : 


30 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Don’t scare the 'captain’ when you find her, but just 
let her know her mother needs her, and her dinner’s dry- 
ing up in the oven. Now scatter ; and don’t you show a 
face back here without her in hand !” 

"Can’t all of us find her, herder. Ain’t ‘captains’ enough 
to go ’round,” said a cowboy, with an ill-attempt at play- 
fulness, which was instantly frowned down. For, though 
all assured themselves that there was no substantial cause 
for alarm, and that women were “nervous cattle, always 
scared at shadders,” they had already caught something of 
this nervousness. Each felt that the best sight for his eyes 
at that moment would be the gleam of a golden head, and 
the sweetest music his ears could hear the sound of a 
young girl’s laughter. 

But, alas! Daylight gave place to the sudden night of 
that region, where no lingering twilight is known; and 
still over the great ranch there rested the terrible silence 
which had followed the loss of one merry voice. 


CHAPTER III. 


OLD CENTURY TAKES THE TRAIL. 

The clatter of horse’s hoofs on the dry sward made 
Pedro, the shepherd, lift his eyes from his basket weaving, 
but only for an instant. The sight of Samson, the herder, 
mounted upon the fleetest animal of the Sobrante stables, 
was as nothing to him compared to the working out of 
the intricate pattern he had set himself to follow. Even 
the centenarian, dwelling in his lofty solitude, knew that 
there was approaching the blessed Navidad, whereon all 
good Christians exchanged gifts, in memory of the great 
gift of the Son of God ; and what could he' do but put 
forth his utmost ingenuity to please his heart’s dearest, 
even Jessica of the sunny face? 

Like Aunt Sally, at the ranch, he had, at last, caught a 
feeling of haste, and wished not to be disturbed ; so he 
did not even look up again when he was accosted. 

“Hello, old man! Hard at it, still?” 

No reply forthcoming, Samson shouted, as if the shep- 
herd were deaf : 

“Where’s Capt. Jess, abnelo (grandfather) ?” 

The deferential title won the attention which the loud 
voice could not gain, and Pedro glanced carelessly upon 
the mighty herder, a mere youth of sixty summers, and 
replied, with equal carelessness: 


32 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


‘'Am I the iima's* keeper? But, no/' then resumed his 
weaving. 

In another instant the delicate, finely split rushes had 
been snatched from the weaver’s hands, and he was ex- 
horted : 

“By all that’s great, old man ! Tell me, has Jessica 
Trent passed this way?” 

“Why for? Once, but once, since the long journey and 
the finding of that bad Antonio came she to Pedro’s hut. 
Give back the basket. For her, of the bright hair, it is; 
my finest, and, maybe, my last. Why not? Yet still 
again I will keep the Hesta, si. The child. Many have I 
loved, but none like my little maid. The basket.” 

This was a long speech for the silent dweller on the 
mesa, and there was more of anger in his usually calm 
eyes that Samson had ever seen there, as he rose and ex- 
tended his skinny hands for his treasure. 

The herder restored it, his own heart growing heavier 
as he did so. 

“Think fast, good Pedro. The old are wise, and hark 
ye ! These many hours the child is from home. The mis- 
tress — you love her?” 

“She is my mistress,” answered the shepherd, in a tone 
which conveyed all his deep feeling. To him his “mis- 
tress” represented a material Providence. From her hand 
came all the simple necessaries of his life. From her, on 
the approaching nativity, would also come some things 


*Little one. 


OLD CENTURY TAKES THE TRAIL. 


38 


which were not necessaries, but infinitely more precious 
to the centenarian than such could be. On the nativity he 
would be sent, upon the gentlest mount his lady owned, 
to the mission service which he loved. Thereafter he 
would ride back to Sobrante, his own priest beside him, 
to feast his fill on such food as he tasted but once a year. 
At nightfall of that blessed day he would gather the 
ranchmen about him, in that old corridor where once he 
had seen the ancient padres walk, breviary in hand, and 
tell his marvelous tales of the days when the land was new, 
when whole tribes of the redfaces came to be taught at the 
padres’ feet, and when the things which now were had not 
been dreamed of. Some who listened to these Christmas 
stories believed that the secrets at which the shepherd 
hinted were vagaries of his enfeebled mind, but others, 
and among them Samson, gave credence to them, and 
yearly did their best to worm from him their explanation. 

That mention of the “mistress” had touched him, also, 
to anxiety, and he motioned the herder to repeat his state- 
ment. He then straightened himself to almost the erect- 
ness of the younger man, and began at once to gather his 
rushes and wrap them carefully in a moistened cloth. 
With an expressive gesture toward his cabin, he suggested 
that Samson was free to enter it and provide such enter- 
tainment for himself as he chose, or could find. And so 
well did the herder know the shepherd that he fully under- 
stood this significant wave of the hand, and replied to it in 
words : 

“Thanks, old man, but some other time. At present I’m 


84 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


keener on the scent for my captain than for even your good 
coffee. If she comes, report, will you?” 

The other did not again notice what he heard, but him- 
self proceeded to the cabin and safely deposited his handi- 
work within it. Then he came out again, whistled for his 
dog, Keno, whose head he stroked for some time, and into 
whose attentive ear he seemed to be whispering some in- 
struction. 

A shade of amusement, merging into wonder, crossed 
the herder’s countenance, and he communed with himself 
thus : 

^‘Blow my stripes, if Old Century isn’t going to take 
the trail himself! He’s telling that canine what to do 
while he’s gone, and, ahoy, there I If the knowin’ creatur’ 
doesn’t understand him! All right, grand sir! Yet, not 
all so right, either. It takes a deal of business to move 
Pedro off his mesa, and if he’s riled enough to leave it now, 
it’s because he sees more danger to Lady Jess than even I 
do. Hello! what’s he waiting for?” 

Evidently for Samson to depart, which that gentleman 
presently did, grimly considering : 

‘‘Old chap thinks the whole mesa belongs to him, and 
’pears to suspect I might rob him if he left me behind. 
Well, friend. I’ve no call to tarry. Since my lady isn’t 
here, I must seek her elsewhere,” and down the canyon 
Samson dashed, his sure-footed beast passing safely where 
a more careful animal would have stumbled. 

All this had happened soon after the dispersing of the 


OLD CENTURY TAKES THE TRAIL. 


35 


ranchmen to search for Jessica, and Samson had now 
taken that turn of the trail which led to the miner’s cabin. 

“ ’Tisn’t likely she’s there, though. She’d never travel 
afoot that long distance, and Buster’s in the stable.” 

The Winklers received him with gloom. The hilarious 
gayety that had once distinguished their small household 
had vanished with the loss of Elsa’s money. Their son, 
and idol, had been defrauded of the rich future for which 
they had toiled, and life now seemied to them but an irk- 
some round of humdrum duties, to be gotten through with 
as easily as possible. Over the cabin hung an air of neg- 
lect which even Samson was swift to note, and most sig- 
nificant of all, Elsa’s knitting had fallen to the floor and 
become the plaything of a kitten, which evoked no repri- 
mand, tangle the yarn as she would. 

“Hello, neighbors ! Ain’t lookin’ over and above cheer- 
ful, are you? What’s wrong?” 

“Good-day, herder. How’s all?” 

“Glum, I should say. Where’s Lady Jess?” 

Wolfgang elevated his eyebrows, shrugged his shoul- 
ders, and made a gesture of ignorance, but said no word. 

“Lost your tongues, mostly, hey? I say — where’s the 
captain ?” 

Elsa lumbered forward to the doorway, and dully re- 
garded the visitor ; then, after a time, replied : 

“Not here.” 

Her brevity was another contrast to her former volu- 
bility, but it was sufficient to thrill the questioner’s heart 
with fresh dismay. 


86 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Has she been here to-day?” 

Elsa shook her head. Otto came out from the shed and 
glanced disconsolately at Samson, then slowly returned 
whence he had come. 

The herder’s temper flamed, and, snapping his whip at 
the air, he cried out, hotly : 

“Look at me, you passel of idiots ! You think you 
know what trouble is just because you’ve lost a handful 
of money? Well, you don’t! You haven’t even guessed 
at it. Money! The world’s full of that, but there never 
was more than one Lady Jess, and I tell you — I tell you — 
she’s lost!” 

He had spoken out at last, the fear he had scarcely 
acknowledged, and the shock of his own plain speech held 
him silent thereafter. His head drooped, his great body 
settled in the saddle, as if the whole burden of his sixty 
years had fallen upon him in that moment. His attitude, 

even more than his words, conveyed his meaning to his 
hearers, and, in a flash, the real values of what they had 
loved, and now lost, fell into their rightful places. 

“Money? The little lady?” Ah! what, after all, was 
the one compared to the other? 

“Man — you lie!” retorted Wolfgang, clinching his fist 
and advancing with a threatening air. Elsa stepped to his 
side, her wide face turning even paler than it had been, and 
a startled look dawning in her heavy eyes. Even Otto, the 
six-foot “child,” reappeared from his retreat and regarded 
the horseman reproachfully. 

As for him, he roused from his momentary despondency 


OLD CENTURY TAKES THE TRAIL. 


37 


and glared upon the trio of spectators as if they, and they 
alone, were to blame for the calamity which had befallen. 

Question and answer followed swiftly, and again Sam- 
son was off down the slope, headed now for distant 
Marion, the least likely of all places wherein his darling 
might be found. Once he was out of sight, the Winkler 
household resolved itself into an additional search party; 
and it was noticeable that, whereas formerly, when they 
were leaving the home, they would carefully secure the 
cabin against intruders, they now disdained any further 
preparation than kicking the kitten out of doors, and re- 
moving the kettle of boiling stew from the fireplace to the 
ground before the door. A fleeting smile did cross Elsa’s 
face, as she reflected that the meddler with her knitting 
would probably scald itself in the pot, but she didn’t care. 
Her whole mind was now set upon Sobrante and its mis- 
tress, and so eager was she to reach the spot that she set 
off on her long walk with an alacrity she had not shown 
since the discovery of the robbery. 

Wolfgang and Otto armed himself each with a sharp, 
iron-pointed staff, and silently, with one accord, started to- 
ward El Desierto. Why, even they could not have ex- 
plained, beyond the fact that it seemed a place for hiding 
things. It was a long walk, and so weary had the ^‘little 
boy” become by the time the deserted ranch was reached 
that Wolfgang felt it unfatherly to force a return trip on 
that same day, although no signs of recent occupancy had 
rewarded their search. 

So it was in every case. Jessica had simply and com- 


38 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


pletely disappeared, and there settled upon the desolated 
home the darkest night it had ever known. Even that on 
which its master had been brought back dead did not 
equal in intensity of anguish the uncertainty which drove 
the waiting mother frantic. At times she would call for a 
horse and ride wildly to and fro, peering into every 
shadowed spot and calling pitifully upon her child, at 
others she would hasten to the house, eagerly demanding 
of Aunt Sally, '‘Has she come?” 

“Not yet, honey. Not quite yet. Just wait a spell, and 
you’ll see her all right. Best be here at home when she 
does come, Gabriella. You’d hate to have anybody else 
the first to meet her, you know.” 

This advice, uttered in tones so gentle they were hardly 
recognizable as Mrs. Benton’s, would be followed for the 
moment, till the torture of dreadful possibilities would 
send the distracted ranch mistress again afield. 

So the night wore away, and sunrise came, and still 
there was no returning party that brought good cheer. 
Each tarried, for a brief time, to attend to the live stock 
under his immediate care, and some even to snatch a mor- 
sel of food, but mostly they were off and away again, a 
flask of water and a bit of hardtack in pocket, oftener than 
not forgetting even this meager nourishment. 

By the end of the second day the sorrowful news had 
spread over all the countryside, and other ranches were 
well-nigh as deserted as Sobrante, while their forces joined 
in the apparently hopeless search. 

By then, also, Mrs. Trent had resigned herself to a quiet 


OLD CENTURY TAKE* THE TRAIL. 


39 


acceptance of the worst, and sat for hours at a time rigidly 
motionless, with only her sense of hearing intensely alert, 
strained to its utmost for whatever news might come. As 
each party came back to consult the others, and for the re- 
freshment that human nature could no longer do without, 
it reported to the waiting woman, who received the mes- 
sage in silence, yet with the courteous bow which acknowl- 
edged the other’s effort on her behalf. 

Aunt Sally now rose to the occasion as only her great 
heart could suggest. All the petty fussiness which had 
annoyed her neighbors dropped away from her as she 
moved softly, keen-eyed and solicitous, among them all. 
The steaming bowl of coffee and strengthening sandwich, 
ready on the instant for each arrival, the unshaken hope- 
fulness of her eyes, and her wordless control of the awe- 
struck little boys, were comforts scarcely realized in that 
dark time; yet comforts truly. Even Gabriella could not 
refuse the nourishment so lovingly pressed upon her, and 
mechanically drank the cup of broth which her friend had 
taken care should be of the strongest. To one and all this 
homely ministering angel affirmed, with unshaken persist- 
ence : 

“Jessica Trent is safe. Jessica Trent is coming back.” 

Meanwhile, old Pedro, for the first time in nearly a 
twelvemonth, had turned his back upon the mesa which 
he loved and set out on a toilsome path. In his hand he 
carried a curious, notched stick, upon which he sometimes 
leaned, but oftener bore upon his shoulder, as it were 
a precious possession that he must guard. Old as he 


4o 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


was, his staff was older still. It had come to him when 
the valley mission had been abandoned, and the padre 
who bestowed it upon this, his faithful servant, had also 
given into his keeping a valuable secret. This metal- 
pointed rod was the one thing Pedro never left behind 
him when he journeyed from home. 

Starting from the east side of the mesa, he dipped into 
the canyon; not by the trail over which Jessica had ridden 
the ostrich on the day of her eventful meeting with Mor- 
ris Hale, but by the farther, ragged wall where it seemed 
as if feet so old could never make their way. Yet make 
it they did, as surely if not as swiftly as in their younger 
days. There was not the slightest hesitation in their di- 
rection, though there were, indeed, frequent pauses dur- 
ing which the Indian^s keen hearing was strained for an 
expected sound. After each such halt Pedro would re- 
sume his path, climbing over rocks which looked insur- 
mountable, and skirting others by ledges less than a span’s 
width. Over this part of the canyon wall none of the 
Sobrante ranchmen had ever come ; though below it, along 
a smoother portion, ran the flume that watered the ranch 
in the valley. 

Darkness found the shepherd still among the over- 
hanging crags, and with true Indian stolidity he rested 
' for the night. His blanket wrapped around him, his staff 
on the safe inner side, he lay down upon a shelf of stone 
and slept as peacefully as in his cabin on the level mesa, 
from which two motives had driven him abroad. 

Something had warned him that this approaching 


OLD CENTURA TAKES THE TRAIL. 41 

Christmastide might be his last, and that the time of which 
he had often dreamed was come. He would now test the 
truth of the secret he had received, and, if it proved what 
had been promised, would share it with his beloved mis- 
tress, his priceless Navidad gift to her and hers. 

Also sitting solitary at his basket, weaving on the 
isolated upland, Pedro had still observed much. Each 
trifle was an event to him, and of late these trifles had 
gathered thick about him. With annoying frequency 
Ferd, the dwarf, had invaded and contaminated his soli- 
tude. The hints which the misshapen creature had 
dropped, though xeceiving no outward attention, had, nev- 
ertheless, remained in the Indian’s mind to disturb it. It 
was to hunt for this wretched fellow, as well as to prove 
his ‘'secret,” that he was now in the canyon, believing that 
when he was found, there would be Jessica also. 

When morning came he rose and tightened his belt 
about him and set out afresh. The long sleep had re- 
stored his vigor and his eye gleamed with satisfaction. 
The muscles that had stiffened from long disuse — he 
would not have admitted that the stiffness cam.e from 
age — were limber as of old, and he felt that, after all, it 
was good to be once more upon the trail. But even his 
confidence would have been rudely shaken could he have 
foreseen the peril wherein that trail would end. 


CHAPTER IV. 


DELIVERANCE. 

A second night of fruitless search upon the rocky wall 
passed before the old Indian came to the spot which he 
had thought so near, full twenty-four hours before. He 
had fed his hunger upon the few wild plums he had 
found, and more than once he had descended to the flume 
to slake his thirst; then reclimbed the height again, for 
there he knew lay the road to his goal. Again and again 
he tapped the solid rock or the scant earth about it for a 
response to that magical tip upon his rod ; and now, as the 
second day lightened the gulch, the response came. 

The staff forsook his hand, as it had been a creature of 
volition, and stood upright upon a smooth-faced bowlder. 
It needed all the man’s strength to wrest it thence, and, 
grasping it securely, he carefully descended, for the last 
time, the precipitous wall. Always the staff tugged at 
his grasp, seeking the earth, but he carried it still toward 
a clump of gnarled trees which appeared to him like the 
faces of long-lost friends. It seemed to him that in all 
the half century since he looked upon them, neither branch 
nor twig had altered. So had they been on that sad day 
when the last of the padres had brought him hither and 
shown them to him. Beneath their roots lay the secret 
he had kept so well. 

But the cave — what had become of that? And the 


t)ELIVERANCE. 


43 


stout shaft of hewn timber which led below into the heart 
of earth? 

“Alas ! I deceive myself. I have forgotten, for I am 
old ; not young as I seemed to me. I have come in vain,” 
he complained, in his thought; and with a gesture of de- 
spair, in his hunger and weariness, the shepherd sank 
upon the ground and dropped his face on his breast. 

Long he sat thus, till there came to him upon the silence 
the answer no call could have awaked. He began to hear 
sounds. The creeping of some heavy body amid the chap- 
arral, coming nearer, more distinct. Some wild shrubs 
sheltered him from sight, and, peering through their twigs, 
he watched in breathless silence. Ah ! Reward ! 

It was Ferd who approached, as cautiously as if he 
were conscious of those gleaming eyes behind the mes- 
quite, and who, turning in his path, entered a point among 
the trees which even Pedro had not suspected of leading 
any whither. 

It was now the Indian’s part to creep after this crawl- 
ing creature ; and he did so as swiftly, almost as silently, 
as if he were the dwarf’s mere shadow. Always he kept 
a screen of leaves between them, less needed soon, as the 
unconscious guide led the way out of the sunlight into 
the depths of gloom. The cave at last ! 

But the half-wit, Ferd? Had he guessed its secret? 

On and on, it seemed interminably. Now and then 
the dwarf would pause and listen, but at every halt there 
was utter silence behind him. Then onward again, and 
at length into a spacious place, around the walls of which 


44 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


great jagged rocks made recesses of impenetrable gloom. 
With one arm outstretched, feeling his way, and with his 
precious staff secured against his back within his blanket, 
Pedro paused in such a recess just in time, for the dwarf 
had struck a match and lighted a lantern. This he swung 
round his head, peering in each direction, and blinded, 
maybe, by the very rays with which he sought to disclose 
any possible follower. Satisfied that he was alone, Ferd 
moved onward again, and Pedro followed, hugging the 
chamber wall and screening himself in every shadow. 

But Ferd had no longer any fear of discovery or any 
thought of aught save that which lay before him. The 
passage was higher now and he could easily stand up- 
right; the Indian also rising to his feet, though he had 
to bow his head lest it should brush the ceiling. 

The dwarf began to talk aloud, to himself, apparently; 
but after a moment of this muttering, grew silent again. 
He had come to the mouth of a black pit which seemed 
to descend into great depths. In reality the depth was 
not so great; yet to anyone within it escape was im- 
possible without help from above. Into this hole Ferd 
peered, holding the lantern so that its rays fell straight 
downward, and calling in a jeering voice : 

^Ts the ‘captain’ ready yet?” 

“Oh, Ferd ! good Ferd ! Please, please let me out !” an- 
swered a voice that thrilled old Pedro’s heart with joy. 

“All right. The money first.” 

“But I have no money. You must help me up!” 

“Down there safe. Is you hungry?” 


DELIVERANCE. 


45 


'‘No, Ferd. The food you took out of Aunt Sally’s 
pantry kept me from that.” 

The dwarf threw himself backward, on the rocky 
floor above, and laughed loudly, yet his mirth was short- 
lived. Pedro’s hand was on his throat before a movement 
had been heard, and Pedro’s voice was calling into the 
pit: 

"Here am I, Sunny Face. Wait. I come.” 

During all the hours of her imprisonment, Jessica’s 
courage had not faltered, but, at the sound of that blessed 
cry, it suddenly gave way and she burst into a paroxysm 
of sobs and tears, which effectually prevented her hearing 
the struggle that ensued in the gloom between the shep- 
herd and the hunchback. For though the lantern had 
not been extinguished, as it rolled from its owner’s hand, 
it had fallen upon its one glass side and gave no light. 

For a time, even the Indian feared the issue of that 
battle in the dark and the abnormal strength of the 
dwarf’s long arms; but the craft, if not the whole vigor 
of his own youth remained with him, and, at a chance 
opportunity, he whipped off his blanket and smothered his 
opponent’s face therein. 

The blanket was almost priceless, and, next to his staff, 
his dearest possession ; but when its heavy folds had sub- 
dued the other to unconsciousness, he did not hesitate to 
tear it into strips. With these Ferd was promptly bound, 
hand and foot. Then Pedro recovered the lantern and 
again called to Lady Jess: 

"I find a way. Wait,” 


46 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


^‘Oh, Pedro ! I know your blessed voice I There’s a 
rope somewhere. Ask him. Quick — quick !” 

“Wait.” 

But the dwarf had almost imimediately recovered his 
breath, recognized his opponent, and now directed the 
search. With a few superstitious ranchmen, he shared 
the belief that Old Century was under supernatural pro- 
tection, and that it was extremely dangerous to meddle 
with one so guarded. Of all who might have traced him 
to that hidden spot, here was the last he wished to meet; 
and now that he knew himself beaten, he began to whimper 
and plead in a cowardly way : 

“Let me up, Pedro. Ferd’ll take little lady out. Just 
fun, to m.ake big talk. Ferd never hurt the 'captain’ ; no 
Ferd is a good boy, Pedro. Ferd is a good boy. Poor 
Ferd ! Pedro, let poor Ferd go.” 

The only attention the shepherd vouchsafed the whiner 
was to put his own foot under the inert body and roll it 
well back from the pit’s mouth. He had found the rope, 
a long and costly lariat which he recognized as having once 
been the property of Jessica’s father, and he secured it 
about an upright timber that he tested and saw was still 
firm. Then he took the handle of the lantern between 
his teeth and slipped swiftly down the shaft. 

As he reached the bottom Jessica threw herself upon his 
breast with a fresh outburst of joy and tears. But he 
dared not tarry below even with an apparently helpless 
enemy above, and, giving her the rope, he tersely bade her ; 
“Climb!” 


DELIVERANCE. 


47 


With an intuition of his fear, she promptly obeyed him 
and stood guard over the lariat lest Ferd should make a 
fresh attempt upon it. Yet it seemed an interminable time 
that Pedro stayed below ; and when at last he came above, 
she held liim fast, not willing again to let him go. 

But he was in no haste. Allowing her to keep between 
himself and the cavern’s wall, even intrusting to her care 
the curious staff that now persisted in dancing along the 
cavern’s floor in an elfish way which amazed the girl, he 
made a circuit of the place. At one spot he paused, and 
a single grunt of satisfaction escaped him. Then he seized 
a loaf of bread from a shelf-like niche and began to eat it 
eagerly. Fie even pointed to another, lying in the same 
place, but Jessica shook her head. 

“No, no. I am not hungry. He gave me plenty of 
stuff to eat. Lots of things that have been missing from 
the kitchen and puzzled -Aunt Sally so. Oh! Pedro, let 
us go ! Shall I ever see her again ? or my precious mother ? 
How long has it been? It seems forever. Come, come! 
Oh! come!” 

“Wait,” was the imperturbable answer, and the only 
one she could win from him. She was alive and well. He 
had found her. There was no cause for haste, nor had 
he ever hasted in his long life. The man who wastes his 
time in hurry loses all. He had found what he sought. 
This was the very pit, the forsaken shaft of which the 
padre told him. It led to what no other person dreamed. 
Was he to be balked of his purpose, for the child’s whim ? 
No. It was for her, even, that he tarried. 


48 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


In his groping about the cave the lantern had revealed 
some loose fragments of rock which he now pushed in 
front of the dwarf’s body, thus making him a more secure 
prisoner ; and, satisfied that all was now safe, he descended 
again into the old shaft, leaving Jessica in darkness. 

Her impatience was almost unbearable, and escape 
seemed as distant as ever, but there was nothing left ex- 
cept that “waiting” Pedro had so constantly advised. 

It was rewarded, at last, by his call from the pit, and 
even his calm voice was now shaken by excitement. 

“Come, Sunny Face!” 

Leaning over the edge of the hole, she saw him point 
toward the rope and understood that he wished her to de- 
scend, but with a shiver of distrust she declined. 

“Come.” 

This time the order was peremptory and she obeyed it, 
sliding swdftly down, to be caught and safely deposited 
on the floor of the shaft. Placing the lantern in her hand, 
the Indian began to gather a strange collection of articles 
from one corner of the narrow chamber and to display 
them to her. As each was held up, an exclamation of 
surprise broke from her, but even she had grown mostly 
silent now, and her interest prevented fear. When a 
goodly heap had been piled beside her, she found her 
voice again, saying: 

“I reckon everything that’s ever been lost from Sobrante 
since it began is down here. Elsa’s little leathern bags 
with their knitted covers ; Beppo’s plumes ; Marty’s watch, 
that he thought he had lost in the gulch ; Wun Lung’s 


DELIVERANCE. 


49 


carved image. Oh, Pedro! how dreadful and yet how 
splendid 1” 

The shepherd allowed her rhapsodies to answer them- 
selves. Though his eyes betrayed his complacency, he 
had more serious work on hand, and, pointing upward, 
he commanded: 

“Fetch the padre’s staff.” 

Lady Jess now realized that obedience was the shortest 
road to freedom, so climbed and descended the rope again, 
with the ease gained by her gymnastic training under the 
“boys’ ” tuition. But she took into the pit, beside the staff, 
that curious basket which she had once seen Ferd carry- 
ing up the canyon and over which she had, most fortu- 
nately, just then stumbled. 

“See, Pedro ! This will do to hold all those things !” 

The Indian “saw,” indeed, that this was a bit of his 
own handiwork which had been missing from the mesa, 
for many moons. He nodded gravely, but was more 
eager for the staff than for his lost property ; and, taking 
the lantern again to the inner wall of the shaft, he set the 
rod upon its point. It remained motionless, exactly up- 
right, where he placed it; and now, truly, the old man 
paused to gaze upon it in worldless delight. He was so 
rapt and still that the girl grew frightened and awe- 
struck, watching his odd behavior, and begged him : 

“Tell me what that means, Pedro! The thing is be- 
witched.” 

“Ugh!” said the Indian, arousing from his contempla- 


BO 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


tion, and, stooping, began to dig amid the loose stones at 
his feet, with the only tools at his command — his own lean 
fingers. For these he sometimes substituted a bit of rock, 
and to Jessica it seemed as if he would never give over 
his strange task. When she had begun to really despair 
of the liberation which had seemed so near a while ago, 
he ceased his labor and stood upright, holding something 
shining toward the lantern’s light. To the girl it appeared 
as only another worthless stone, of a pretty, reddish hue, 
but wholly unworthy the toil which had been spent to 
secure it. She was further surprised, if anything could 
now surprise her, to see the Indian place the fragment 
carefully within his shirt front and tighten his belt afresh 
below it. Then he lifted the basket she had filled with 
the articles they had found and motioned her upwards 
again. 

“Now, we’re really going, aren’t we, Pedro?” 

“Yes, Sunny Face. We go.” 

Indeed, he was as eager for departure as heretofore he 
had been loath. Releasing the dwarf’s feet from their 
bandages, he helpd his prisoner to them and gently pro- 
pelled him forward by a kick of his own moccasined toe. 
Thus compelled, Ferd led the way, the shepherd at his 
heels, carrying the basket slung upon the staff over his 
shoulder, and his free hand pressed closely against his 
breast where he had placed the gleaming stone. Behind 
him walked impatient Jessica, with the lantern, and in 
suchwise the little procession came swiftly and silently 


DELIVERANCE. 


51 


to the end of the passage and stood once more under the 
free air of heaven. Here they had to halt, for a moment, 
till their vision became accustomed to the dazzling light; 
then with a cry of rapture, the “captain” darted from 
her comrades and sped wildly down the rocky gorge. 


CHAPTER V. 


Jessica's story. 

Though it had seemed as a lifetime to impatient Jessica 
that she had been kept in the cave, after Pedro’s arrival 
there, in reality it was less than an hour; and it was yet 
early in the day when a cry she had expected never to 
hear again, rang through the room where Gabriella Trent 
was lying. , 

“Mother! My mother! Where are you?” 

Another instant, and they were clasped in close embrace 
as if nothing should ever separate them again. Words 
were impossible, at first, and not till she saw that even joy 
was dangerous for her overwrought patient did Aunt 
Sally, the nurse, interpose and bodily lift the daughter 
from the parent’s arms. All at once her own calmness 
and courage forsook good Mrs. Benton, and now that 
she saw the lost girl restored, visibly present in the flesh, 
anger possessed her till she longed to shake, rather than 
caress, the little captain. 

“Well, Jessica Trent ! These are pretty goings on, now 
ain’t they?” 

Gabriella sat up and her child nestled against her, their 
hands clasped and their eyes greedily fixed upon each 
other’s countenance. The unexpected brusqueness of the 
question was a relief to their high tension, and Jessica 
laughed, almost hysterically, as she answered : 


JESSICA'S STORY. 


58 


“They didn’t seem very ‘pretty’ to me, Aunt Sally.” 

“What a sight you be ! Where you been ?” 

“In the canyon cave.” 

“Didn’t know there was one.” 

“Nor I — before.” 

“What for? What made you stay? Didn’t you know 
you’d raised the whole countryside to hunt for you ? Don’t 
believe there’s an able-bodied man left on a single ranch 
within fifty miles; all off huntin’ for you. You — you 
ought to be spanked !” 

“Mrs. Benton!” warned Gabriella, in a tone of such 
distress that the reproved one promptly sank in a capacious 
heap on the floor and fell to weeping with the same vigor 
that she applied to all things. Jessica, too, began to cry 
softly, at intervals, with such shuddering bursts of sobs, 
that the mother’s tears, also, were soon dimming the eyes 
to which they had been denied during all the past anxiety. 
However, this simultaneous downpour was infinite relief 
to all ; and presently the mother rose and with the strength 
happiness gave to her slight figure, carried her child away 
to rest. 

“You are safe. You are here. I see that you have 
suffered no hurt, and bed is the best place for you. When 
you have slept and rested you must tell us all. Oh! my 
darling ! Many hearts have ached for you, and I thought 
my own was broken. But, thank God ! thank God !” 

Aunt Sally followed them, and, as if she had been a 
new-born baby, the two women washed and made ready 
for a long sleep the precious child that had been given 


54 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


back to them from the grave. Then the mother sat down 
to watch while Aunt Sally hurried to ring the ancient 
mission bell, whose harsh clanging had been agreed upon 
among the searchers as the signal of good news. 

They all came flocking back, singly or in groups, from 
wherever the summons, which could be heard for miles 
in that clear air, chanced to find them. Impatience was 
natural enough, too, on their part, since to their eager 
questions Mrs. Benton could not give answer beyond the 
simple statement: 

“Yes, she’s back, safe and sound. Says she’s been in a 
cave, though where it is or whether she’s just flighty in 
her head, land knows. She’s sleepin’ now, and it won’t be 
healthy for any you lumberin’ men to be makin’ a noise 
round the house before she wakes up, of her own accord.” 

Nor when Pedro and the subdued dwarf came slowly 
over the road would they make any further explanation. 
Indeed, they were both utterly silent; the Indian forcing 
his captive before him into the deserted office where he 
intrenched himself, with his basket and staff, until such 
time as it should be his mistress’ pleasure to receive him. 

Thus, with time on her hands and nothing else to do, 
Aunt Sally collared Wun Lung and withdrew to her 
kitchen, whence, presently, there arose such various and 
appetizing odors that the weary ranchmen scented a feast, 
and sought repose for themselves till it was ready. Sam- 
son and John, however, were called upon for aid, and, 
whereas they were ordered to “dress six of the plumpest 
fowl in the hennery,” they brought a dozen, and for 


JESSICA’S STORY. 


55 


likely shoat,” they made ready two. Nor, when they were 
upbraided for wastefulness, were they a whit abashed, but 
John demanded, with unfilial directness : 

'‘Why, mother, what’s got your common sense? ’Tisn’t 
only our own folks you’re cookin’ for, but fifty others, 
more or less. Do you s’pose Cassius Trent would skimp 
victuals on such a day as this ? My advice to you is : Put 
on all the pork and bacon you’ve got, to bile; and roast 
the lamb that was butchered for our mess ; and set to bakin’ 

biscuit by the cartload, and ” 

“John Benton, hold your tongue, or I’ll ” 

“No, you won’t, mother! I’ve outgrown spankin’ 
though I’d be most willin’ to submit if ’twould be any re- 
lief to your feelin’s, or mine either. I tell you this here’s 
the greatest day ever shone on Sobrante Ranch, not barrin’ 
even the one when the ‘captain’ came home with the title 
in her hand.” 

“You misguided boy, don’t I know it? Ain’t I clean 
druv out my wits a-thinkin’ ever’thing over, and where in 
the name of natur’ am I goin’ to do it all, with them hor- 
rid gasoline stoves no bigger’n an old maid’s thimble, and 
Pasqually gone ofif s’archin’ with the rest, and no’count the 
heft of the time and — my sus !” 

“Had to take breath, or bust, hadn’t you ?” cried her dis- 
respectful son, catching the portly matron about the spot 
where her waist should have been and hilariously whirling 
her about in a waltz which his own lameness rendered the 
more grotesque. “And where can you cook ’em? Why, 
right square in them old ovens at the mission. Full now of 


56 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


saddles and truck, but Samson and me’ll clear ’em out 
lively, ril make you a fire in ’em, and they’ll see cookin’ 
like they haven’t since the padres put out their own last 
fires. They weren’t any fools, them fellers. They knew 
a good thing when they saw it, and if they tackled a job 
they did it square. The ovens they built, just out of baked 
mud and a few stones, are as tight to-day as they were a 
hundred years ago; and, whew! won’t old Pedro, that 
found her, relish his meat cooked in ’em ?” 

Nor was Benton to be outdone in suggestion on the mat- 
ter of providing. Some of the searchers had brought back 
a quantity of gamie, with which the country teemed, and 
which it had delayed them but little to shoot. This was 
levied upon without ado, and in the preparation of the 
great feast Aunt Sally’s helpers forgot their fatigue, and 
were as deftly efficient as women would* have been. 

Indeed, between sleep and labor, the hours of Jessica’s 
unbroken rest passed quickly, after all ; and the good news 
having spread almost as swiftly as the ill, the grounds 
were full of people when, at last, she awoke. But, even 
yet, Mrs. Trent’s consideration for others refused a prior 
or full hearing of the story to which her faithful helpers 
had as good a right as she, if not as intense an interest in 
it. She made the child eat and drink, and went with her 
to her favorite rostrum when addressing her “company” 
of soldierly “boys”— the horse block. Here the girl stood 
up and told her simple tale. 

“You see, dear folks, it was just this way: Aunt Sally 
and I were on the porch, and we found Elsa’s ring, all 


JESSICA^S STORY. 


57 


crooked. We couldn’t guess how it came there, and I’d 
just been made pretty angry about the way you felt toward 
‘Forty-niner.’ Oh! it was dreadful, dreadful of you all, 
and I never was so ashamed of my ‘boys,’ not in all my 
life.” 

“Go on with the story, captain. Never mind us,” cried 
somebody. 

“And a little way farther I found a piece of Elsa’s knit- 
ted bag. That made me think a lot. Then the tackers 
came, all paint, and with Mr. Hale’s horse, that had been 
on the mesa ever since he was here. That made me think 
some m.ore, and I told auntie if she wouldn’t scold the little 
ones I’d try to find their clothes. I didn’t find them, 
though. Aunt Sally.” 

“Go on! Go on! What next?” demanded an impa- 
tient listener. 

“Then I saw Ferd. Oh, mother! If I tell I’m afraid 
they’ll hurt him.” 

“He shall be protected, daughter, and you must tell,” 
said the mother, though she now shrank from the hearing. 

“I asked him about the horse and the children, and he 
said ‘yes,’ he had fixed them. He had driven Prince down 
from the mesa, when Pedro didn’t see him, and had 
‘showed that old carpenter’ something to pay for kicks 
and hard words. He knew somiething I’d like to know. 
So I asked him what, and he said it was Elsa’s money. 
But, if I didn’t go with him without saying anything to 
anybody he wouldn’t tell me how to find it. I begged to 


58 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


tell my mother, but he said her least of all. It wouldn’t 
take long, only a few rods up the canyon ; so, of course, I 
went. I thought I should be back long before dinner-time, 
and that mother would tell me to do anything which would 
clear old Ephraim’s name from your cruel suspicions. And, 
oh, boys ! You were wrong, you were wrong ! Ele never 
took a cent that wasn’t his own, and Elsa’s money is 
found!” 

Absolute silence followed this announcement, then Sam- 
son’s great voice started the wild “Hurrahs” which made 
the wide valley ring. The cheers were long and lusty, but 
when they subsided at last, Mrs. Trent bade her daugh- 
ter finish the tale. 

“It wasn’t a little, but a long way up the canyon; yet 
I was so eager to right Ephraim’s wrong that I didn’t feel 
afraid, though I never have liked Ferd. He can’t help 
being queer, maybe, with his queer body to keep his half 
mind in ” 

The hisses that interrupted her were almost as loud as 
the cheers had been, and it would have fared ill with the 
dwarf had he at that moment been visible. Fortunately, 
he was still under the surveillance of the grim shepherd, 
in the locked office, and the majority of those present 
were ignorant of his whereabouts. 

“Quit hindering the captain. Her story is what we 
want !” cried “Marty.” “The dwarf can wait.” 

“So we went on and on, and into a strange, dark tun- 
nel, that scared me a little, yet made me more curious than 


JESSICA'S STORY. 


59 


ever to see the end of it all. The tunnel led to a cave, and 
in the cave there was a deep hole ; and before I knew what 
he was doing, Ferd had slung a lariat about me and 
dropped me into it." 

Again an interruption of groans and howls, that were 
promptly suppressed by a wave of the mistress’ white 
hand; then Jessica continued: 

“As soon as he had put me there, he told me he would 
keep me till my mother paid him great money to let me up. 
Yet he wouldn’t even go to her and ask for it. He said I 
must promise, and that she would do anything I said. He 
told about a boy in ’Frisco, he’d heard the men say, was 
taken from his folks and kept till they paid lots for his 
release — even thousands of dollars ! Antonio had taught 
him that money was the best thing to have. He believed 
it. He took it whenever he could find it. That’s what 
made him take Elsa’s, and blame it upon Ephraim. And 
I wouldn’t promise. How could I? My dear has no 
money to give wicked men, and I knew the dear God 
would take me back to her when He saw fit. As He did, 
indeed. Eor it must have been He who put it into Pedro’s 
heart to seek the cave just when I needed him most. Only 
the Lord could see through all that darkness and lead the 
shepherd by that crooked way.’’ 

She paused, and, turning to her mother, laid her sunny 
head upon the shoulder that was shaken by such sobs as 
moved her faithful ranchmen to thoughts of deep revenge. 
Eyes that had not wept for years grew dim, and out of 


60 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


that circle of listening men rose a low and ominous sound. 
Some, remembering their own idle talk of kidnaping and 
the like, shuddered at the practical application the dwarf’s 
dim mind had made of their words ; and various plans for 
punishment were forming when the captain clapped her 
hands for fresh attention. 

^‘Hear me, ‘boys.’ Do you belong to me?” 

“Ay, ay! Heart and soul!” 

“Then you must mind me. You must let Ferd alone. 
You must do even more to please me — and teach him to 
be good, not bad.” 

None answered these clear, commanding sentences, 
which, as the strangers present thought, came so oddly 
from such childish lips, and they wondered at the effect 
produced upon the Sobrante men. These glanced at one 
another in doubt, each questioning the decision of his 
neighbor ; and then again at the lovely girl who had never 
before seemed so wholly angelic. 

“Will you do this?” 

“Hold on, little one. Let the ‘admiral’ speak. Has she 
forgiven that human coyote ?” 

The unexpected question startled Mrs. Trent. She was 
a strictly truthful woman, and found her answer difficult. 
She had never liked the wretched creature who had just 
brought such misery to her, and she now loathed him. 
She had already resolved that, while she would protect 
Ferd frorh personal injury, she would see to it that he 
was put where he could never again injure her or hers. 


JESSICA’S STORY. 


61 


Her momentary hesitation told. The whole assemblage 
waited for her next word amid a silence that could be felt, 
when, suddenly, there burst upon that silence a series of 
ear-splitting shrieks which effectually diverted attention 
from the perplexed ranch mistress. 


CHAPTER VI. 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 

The shrieks were uttered by Elsa Winkler, who fran- 
tically rushed to the horse block, demanding: “Where? 
Where?” 

Mrs. Trent gave one glance at the rough, unkept 
woman, and sternly remarked: 

“Elsa, you forget yourself ! Go back indoors, at once.” 

The unhappy creature shivered at this unfamiliar tone, 
yet abated nothing of her outcry : 

“My money ! My money ! My money !” 

She had come to the ranch thinking only of Jessica's 
mysterious absence, and meaning to do something, any- 
thing, which might help or comfort the child’s mother ; but 
the long walk, for one so heavy and unaccustomed to 
exercise, had made her physically ill by the time she 
reached Sobrante. Which state of things was wholly sat- 
isfactory to Aunt Sally, who, having received the visitor 
with dismay, now promptly suggested bed and rest, say- 
ing: 

“You poor creatur’ ! You’re clean beat out ! If you 
don’t take care, you’ll have a dreadful fit of sickness, and 
I don’t know who’d wait on you if you did. Not with all 
this trouble on hand. You go right straight up into one 
them back chambers, where the bed is all made up ready, 
and put yourself to bed, and — ^stay there! Don’t you 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 


63 


dast to get up again till I say so ; else I won’t answer for 
the consequences. You’re as yeller as saffron, and as red 
as a beet. Them two colors mixed on a human coun- 
tenance means — somethin’ ! To bed, Elsa Winkler ; to bed 
right away. I’ll fetch you up a cup of tea and a bite of 
victuals. Don’t tarry.” 

“But — the mistress !” Elsa had panted. ‘T come so long 
for to speak her good cheer. I must see the mistress, 
then I rest.” 

“The mistress isn’t seeing anybody just now, except me 
and — a few others. You do as I say, or you’ll never knit 
another wool shawl.” 

“No, no. I knit no more, forever, is it ? Not 1. Why 
the reason? The more one earns the more one may lose. 
Yes, yes, indeed. Yes.” 

“That’s the true word,” Mrs. Benton had replied ; “and 
so being you’ve no yarn to worry you, nor no mistress to 
see, off to bed, I say, and don’t you dast to get sick on 
my hands, I warn you !” 

So Elsa had obeyed the command, glad enough to rest 
and be idle for a time. Aunt Sally had seen to it that the 
visitor was kept duly alarmed concerning her red-and- 
yellow condition, nor had she given the permission to 
arise when Wolfgang and Otto arrived from their fruitless 
visit to El Desierto. They found the place crowded with 
returning searchers, and joyfully hailed the good news of 
Jessica’s safety. But when there was added to this the 
information that their own property had been found, they 
demanded to be taken to Elsa, and it was their visit to her 


64 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


room which had sent her afield, half-clad, and with 
thought for nothing but her lost treasure. 

Even now, husband and son joined their entreaties to 
hers, though Samson soon brought them to hear reason, 
and to withdraw from public for the present, asking, in- 
dignantly : 

^‘Have you folks lost all your manners, as well as your 
dollars, up there on the foothill? The idee of a woman 
screeching her lungs out afore all the ranchers in Southern 
Californy! Your money? Well, what of it? If it’s found, 
it’ll be give to you, and if it isn’t, you ain’t the first feller’s 
been robbed. Besides, can’t you smell? Don’t you know 
that you’re interruptin’ the prettiest spread ever was seen 
at old Sobrante? Like chicken? Like roast pig? Like 
hot biscuit and plum sass ? Then go wash your face, and 
make your folks fix up and come enjoy yourself. So far 
as I hear, it’s old Pedro holds the cash, and you might as 
well try to move the Sierras as him, if he ain’t ready to 
move. At this present writin’ he’s set himself guard over 
that scalliwag, Ferd, and I ain’t envying him his job, I 
ain’t. Hurry up, there won’t be anything but necks and 
drumsticks left for you laggards.” 

Thus admonished and reassured, Wolfgang hurried his 
family away to prepare for the feast, and the interruption 
they had caused to the proceedings at the horse block effec- 
tually relieved Mrs. Trent from an immediate answer to 
an awkward question, so she said : 

“Come, daughter. I see by Aunt Sally’s manner that 
she wishes the people would begin to eat. Every pair of 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 


65 


hands, that belongs to us, must help in serving these kind 
neighbors who have flocked to our aid. Some of them 
have forty good miles to ride before they sleep, and they 
must be fed first. Fll stand by the head table yonder, and 
name them, and do you, for whom they left their busi- 
ness, wait upon them yourself. That will show them 
your gratitude, and give them honor due.’" 

So it was, and to every dish she brought, the little cap- 
tain added a graceful word of thanks, which seasoned the 
food better than even Aunt Sally’s wondrous skill had 
done; and many an enconium did the child hear, in re- 
turn, of that lost father who had made himself so well- 
beloved in all that countryside. 

When all was over and done, when the last "‘neighbor’' 
had ridden homeward, when everybody had had his filb, 
and more than his fill of good things, and the rudely con- 
structed tables had been removed from the wide lawn, 
came Aunt Sally, beaming with happiness, and glanced 
over the scene, till there broke from her lips the won- 
dering question: 

“Can this be the same spot that was so dark and lonely 
yesterday? I’ve had my heartstrings so stretched and 
tugged at, betwixt joy and sorrow, that I don’t know my- 
self. I — I believe I’m tired ! And if I am, it’s about the 
first time in my life. Well, well ! Talking of Christmas — 
this little supper we’ve just give is about equal to forty 
Christmases in one. Seem’s if.” 

“Dear, kind. Aunt Sally, how shall I ever thank you 
for till you’ve done for us?” cried Mrs. Trent, appearing 


66 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


at her friend’s side, and impetuously clasping the portly 
matron. The embrace was so unexpected, for the ranch 
mistress was never a demonstrative woman, that its re- 
cipient was, for the instant, speechless ; the next, she had 
turned herself about and demanded : 

^‘Gabriella Trent, have you had a bite to eat?” 

“No. Have you, Mrs. Benton?” 

“Not a morsel. I’m as empty as a bubble. No more 
has the captain touched a thing. She’s here, there and 
everywhere, among her precious ‘boys,’ yet not a one of 
’em has the decency to say: ‘Share my supper. Lady 
Jess.’ If they were my ‘boys’. I’d ” 

“No, you wouldn’t, mother. And I’m glad to see you 
two women resting a spell. Keep on sitting there. We’re 
going to wait on you now, and don’t you believe we 
haven’t put by the pick of the pie for you all ! The cap- 
tain is fetchin’ the tackers, and Pasqual’s fetchin’ the food. 
But what about old Pedro and the coyote ?” 

“John, don’t call names, ’specially hard ones. They al- 
ways come home to roost. But I’m glad you do some 
credit to your upraisin’, and did remember that somebody 
else, except yourself, might be hungry. Wait, Gabrieli’. 
Don’t you worry about that Indian. I’ll just step in and 
fix him somethin’.” 

“You’d better not, mother. He’s got all the company 
he wants at this present writing.” 

This was sufficient to spur Mrs. Benton’s energy afresh. 
Curiosity was her besetting sin, and she could not endure 
that anything should go on about the ranch in which she 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 


67 


had no hand. Rising rather hastily from a chair that was 
much too frail for her weight, she and it came to grief, 
and the fact diverted her attention for the time. 

John was glad of this, though outwardly he sympathized 
with her slight mishap, and facetiously offered her a dose 
of her own picra. 

Mrs. Trent also rose, saying : 

‘T will go to Pedro. Though I did try to thank him, 
when he first came, I had but a moment to give him 
then, and I fear he will feel he has been neglected. As if 
I could ever neglect one to whom I owe my darling's 
restoration !” 

Mrs. Benton looked after her, and sighed. 

“There she goes again ! and that woman hasn't tasted a 
mouthful in a dog's age!" 

“How long’s a 'dog’s age,' Aunt Sally?" demanded Ned, 
as he helped himself to a buttered biscuit which Pasqual 
had just placed on the old lady's plate. 

“Age as long as a dog," commented Luis, seizing the 
biscuit from his mate and running away with it. Of 
course, Ned gave chase, and the usual battle ensued, after 
which they dropped down upon the spot where they had 
fought, threw their arms around each other’s necks, and 
munched the biscuit together with an air of cherubic de- 
light. 

Everybody laughed at the pair, upon which Aunt Sally 
now descended with a threatening mien and a plate of 
plum cake. 

“Ain't you ashamed of yourselves, you naughty chil- 


68 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


dren? Fighting half your time. Here! Eat that and 
let your suppers stop. By the way, how many suppers 
have you had already?” 

“Six or seven,” promptly replied Ned, who had eaten 
with whoever invited him. 

“Sixty-seven,” echoed Luis. 

“Then to bed you go, this instant I” And off they were 
marched, without delay. Of course, this was another 
postponement of Mrs. Benton’s own meal, but she didn’t 
mind that, so long as she had an opportunity to deal with 
the small lads. Explaining to them, as she undressed and 
bathed them : “You’d go to wrack and ruin if ’twasn’f 
for me takin’ a hand in your upbringin’ now and then. You 
pull the wool over Gabriella’s eyes the worst ever was. 
My! What you doing now, Edward Trent?” 

“Pullin’ wool, like you said!” and wound the white 
blanket he had caught from his cot the more tightly about 
Luis’ head. 

Meanwhile, the ranch mistress had gained the office and 
asked admission at its locked door. When a long wait 
ensued, she reflected rather anxiously upon what the men 
had often said, “That Old Century is as top-lofty as a 
king. Thinks he is a king, in his own rights, and his hav- 
ing lived a hundred years makes him better’n anybody 
else.” 

This was quite true. Faithful and devoted to her as he 
was, the shepherd exacted even from her the respect that 
was his due. On that day he felt that much more than 
ordinary consideration was owing him; yet he had been 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 


69 


left for hours, unvisited by her for whom he had done, and 
meant still to do, so much. Therefore, it was with a bear- 
ing full of injured dignity that he at last slid the bolt and 
opened the door, though he did not invite the visitor to 
enter, nor withdraw from the opening. 

‘T came to see about your supper, good Pedro. Do you 
know that it has been cooked in the old mission oven? 
That should make it taste fine to you. You must pardon 
my not being earlier, but there have been so many, many 
guests. All gone now, save our own people.” 

‘‘Senorita, am I not also a guest, yes? Was one at 
Sobrante as old as me? Should not I have ruled the 
feast?” 

“Indeed, you should, my friend, if there had been any 
ruling whatever. It was simply take and eat, and away to 
their distant homes. You are already at home, nor have I, 
either, tasted food. Come now and feast with me. I am 
hungry, and so should you be. You mustn’t keep the mis- 
tress waiting, you know!” 

Pedro’s countenance had softened, and he had ex- 
pended all his sternness, but his caution remained. With 
a significant glance toward his prisoner, the dwarf, he 
shook his head. 

“When he is safe, then will I break my fast. The 
senorita does me honor.” 

“That is what I should like to do, dear Pedro. But is 
not poor Ferd safe in here ? Can we not send him in some 
supper and turn the lock upon him ?” 


70 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


She could not hide the repugnance she felt toward the 
miserable, misshapen creature, now sleeping on the floor, 
and after one glance in his direction looked swiftly away. 
But that glance had been sufficient to startle her by its 
resemblance to another face she hoped never to see again. 

Pedro’s keen old eyes noticed her surprise and dismay, 
and he smiled grimly. 

“The mistress sees. Slumber shows it — ^the likeness. 
One breed of snakes were in the den. Fear both, watch 
both, for they are brothers. Yes.” 

This, then, explained many things; not the least, the 
wonderful influence and control which Antonio had al- 
ways maintained over his half-witted “left hand,” as the 
“boys” called the unfortunate hunchback. 

“Antonio — Ferdinand — both Bernals — brothers ?” asked 
Mrs. Trent, in a tremulous voice. 

''Si. Yes, indeed. In truth.” 

“And all this time nobody knew or suspected it ?” 

“Senorita, the master knew. That was part of his great 
goodness to the wicked one who would ruin him if he 
could. ’Ware Antonio — ’ware Ferd. One is the shadow 
of the other. One thinks, the other works. When An- 
tonio went, Ferd stayed. No good, senorita. Watch him.” 

The lady sat down upon the nearest chair, and, as she 
did so, caught sight of the basket upon the desk. It was 
filled to overflowing with articles of various sorts, and be- 
side it lay the curious metal-pointed staff. Her impulse 
was to reach forward and take it, but the Indian arrested 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 


71 


her hand by an upward motion of his own. Then he 
opened it himself and showed her, at the bottom, a number 
of leathern bags with knitted covers. 

“Elsa’s money?” 

Pedro silently assented. 

“Oh, let us call her, and give it back to her at once.” 

“Fools must learn. Let the miner come, and Samson.” 

Mrs. Trent stepped outside ^nd dispatched a messenger 
for the two men, who presently came; the one glum and 
offended, thinking in his slow way that he had been made 
a jest of, and that the money his wife so loved had not, 
after all, been found. The other, as always, proud and 
alert to serve the “admiral.” 

When they had entered the room, Wolfgang’s eyes at 
once rested greedily upon the basket, which Pedro had 
again closed, as if he guessed what treasure lay within. 
Samson’s glance went straight to the sleeping dwarf, and 
an almost irresistible impulse to kick the inert figure pos- 
sessed him. But he restrained himself, and colored high* 
when he met the lady’s own glance. 

“No, Samson, please. No violence. Yet it is Pedro’s 
wise advice that Ferd be placed under the charge of some- 
body who shall know at all times just where he is and 
what he is about. Will you take that charge, herder ?” 

“That ain’t the kind of cattle I keep, 'admiral.’ ” 

“I understand it isn’t a pleasant task. That’s not the 
question, which is simply : Will you be responsible for — 
Ferdinand Bernal?” 


72 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


The mighty sailor fairly jumped, but his reply was: 
^‘You could knock me down with a feather !” 

Mrs. Trent laughed. “Yes, it is strange. But look 
sharp. The resemblance is strong. Pedro knows the re- 
lationship, and my husband knew it. I did not, until just 
now. Something better may suggest itself to you or me, 
but for the present, will you take charge of this unhappy 
one?’^ 

A delayed and most reluctant “Yes” came at last from 
the herder’s lips. If he had been asked to punish the 
dwarf the answer would have been swift and eager; but 
“take charge”! That meant constant association, decent 
treatment and responsibility for the most “slippery” of 
human beings. 

“Then, please take him away at once.” 

Ferd had roused, and was sitting up ; so that when Sam- 
son laid his great hand on the lad’s shoulder, the latter un- 
derstood, in a dim way, that he was now the herder’s, 
rather than the shepherd’s, prisoner. Of the two, he 
would have preferred the latter keeper; but he would 
bother with neither very long. 

It was a relief when the door closed upon the outgoing 
pair, and Pedro rose and locked it. There was something 
preternaturally solemn and mysterious in his manner as, 
placing a chair nearer to the desk for Mrs. Trent, he mo- 
tioned Wolfgang to take another opposite. Then, stand- 
ing between them, he drew the basket toward himself, and 
keeping one hand upon it, thrust the other within his shirt 


BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. 


73 


and drew from that the reddish bit of rock which Jessica 
had seen him so careful of. 

Holding it so that the last rays of the sun fell through 
the window full upon it, he extended it on his open palm 
and demanded of the miner : 

“What?’’ 


CHAPTER VIL 


A ROYAL GIFT. 

Wolfgang took the bit of stone in his own fingers and 
examined it critically. Always deliberate in his words 
and actions, he was now doubly so, and Mrs. Trent grew 
impatient of a situation which seemed unimportant, and 
that delayed for others, as well as herself, a much needed 
supper. 

But Pedro was not impatient. He stood with folded 
arms and triumphant bearing, ready for the miner’s reply, 
whether it came soon or late; also, quite ready to disre- 
gard it should it be different from that expected. 

“Well, Wolfgang?” asked the ranch mistress. 

The miner heaved a prodigious sigh, and returned the 
ambiguous answer: 

“That is what I have thought already, is it not ?” 

“What have you thought, good Wolfgang?” demanded 
the lady, looking toward the Indian’s glowing eyes. 

“Copper. Copper, without alloy.” 

“Ugh !” grunted Pedro, with satisfaction, and taking the 
metal again in his hand, bowed low and gravely presented 
it to his mistress. 

She received it without enthusiasm, wondering what 
significance could attach to a bit of stone that might have 
been picked up anywhere. Her husband had believed that 


A ROYAL GIFT. 


75 


everything valuable would, sooner or later, be unearthed 
from the mountains of the State he so loyally loved, but 
her own interest in the subject was slight. However, she 
must say something grateful or again offend the dignity of 
her venerable servitor. 

“Thank you, Pedro. It is very pretty. I will add it to 
the case of minerals that your master arranged yonder.” 

The shepherd cast one contemptuous glance toward the 
shelves she indicated, and straightened himself indig- 
nantly. He had loved and revered her, ever since she came 
a bride to Sobrante, and had tended him through a scourge 
of smallpox, unafraid and unscathed. Though she was a 
woman, the sex of whose intelligence he had small opinion, 
he had regarded her as an exception, and his disappoint- 
ment was great. 

“Is it but a ‘thank you,’ si? Does not the senorita know 
what this gift means?” 

“I confess that I do not, Pedro. Please explain.” 

“Were the old padres wise, mistress?” 

“So I have always understood.” 

“Listen. From them it came ; from the last who left the 
mission here for another — to me, his son and friend. Into 
the heart of the world we went, and he showed me. Down 
low, so low none dream of it, lies that will make you rich. 
Will there be anybody anywhere so rich as the senorita and 
her little ones? No. But no, not one. This I give you. 
It is for the Navidad, the last old Pedro will ever see. And 
the senorita answers, ‘thank you’ !” 


76 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


He was deeply hurt, and his manner was now full of an 
eloquent scorn. He was returning the stone to his breast, 
when she asked for it again, saying, gently : 

‘^You are so old and wise, good Pedro, you must bear 
with my ignorance and teach me. This is copper, you say. 
It is very pretty, but how can it make me rich ? I do not 
understand.” 

Wolfgang answered for the other, and his phlegmatic 
face had lost its ordinary expression for one of keen de- 
light. 

'Tt is true, what the old man tells you, mistress. He 
means — he must mean — somewhere on your property lies 
a vein of this metal. The dead master thought the coal 
was fine already. Ay, so, so. But copper! Mistress 
Trent, when this vein is mined, what Pedro says — yes, yes. 
In all this big country is not one so rich as he who owns a 
copper mine. Ach, himmel! It is a queen he has made 
you, and you say, ‘Thank you’!” 

He had fully caught the shepherd’s enthusiasm and 
feeling, and for the first time in his life looked upon the 
lady of Sobrante as a dull-witted person. 

But she was no longer dull. Even if it seemed an im- 
possibility that ever this “vein” could be mined, since she 
had no money to waste in an experiment so costly, still she 
realized, at last, what Pedro’s will had been. Catching his 
hand between her own soft palms, she pressed it grate- 
fully, and beamed upon him till he smiled again. 

“Whatever comes of it, Pedro, you have given us a 


A ROYAL GIFT. 


77 


royal a^uinaldo'^, and I do appreciate it. Come now, and 
share our rejoicing over that greater good that you have 
brought to Sobrante — the salvation of its little captain. 
For that — for that — I have not even the ‘thank you’ ; my 
feeling is too deep.” 

Though he showed it little, the old man was almost as 
moved as she, and he followed her as proudly as if he 
were the “king” his fellow ranchmen called him. Yet 
even pride did not prevent his being cautious still, and he 
carried the basket and staff away with him, though Wolf- 
gang protested, and asked, angrily now : 

“The money? Is it not my Elsa’s, yes? Would you 
break her heart already, and the little one so needing it ?” 

Mrs. Trent laughed. She, too, wondered that the In- 
dian had not at once surrendered the other’s property, but 
understood that he could not be hurried. So she merely 
suggested that Wolfgang bring his family around to the 
living room immediately after sunset, when, doubtless, he 
would receive his own again. 

At that time, also, she meant to have John Benton pres- 
ent, to hear what Pedro had to say about this copper find, 
and to comfort him in his disappointment, for between 
these two there had always been close friendship. 

However, to her surprise, John attempted no comfort. 
He was instantly and heartily on the shepherd’s side, and 
demanded, excitedly: 

“Begging pardon for plain words, as you are a woman 


*Christmas box or gift. 


78 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


with growing children, can you sit there calm as molasses 
and say ‘you wish you could do something about it,’ yet 
say no more. ‘Wish !’ Why, land of Goshen ! this ain’t a 
wishin’ sort of business, this ain’t ! It’s ‘Hurray for old 
Sobrante ! Hurray, hurray, hurray !’ Call ’em in, captain, 
dearie! Call in the whole crowd! That was the luckiest 
gettin’ lost anybody ever had! Oh, won’t somebody call 
’em in?” 

To the group about the table it seemed that the sensible 
carpenter had suddenly gone mad. Nobody had ever 
heard him so address the mistress whom he loved, and his 
excited prancing around the room, alternately hugging 
and examining the mineral in his hand, added to the im- 
pression. While the captain departed to summon the other 
“boys,” Aunt Sally attempted to reduce her hilarious son to 
sanity by a sharp box on the ear, and the sharper repri- 
mand : 

“You, John Benton! Do you mean to bring my gray 
hairs with sorrer to the grave? What’s the reason of 
these goings on. I’d like to know? I never was so dis- 
graced in all my life, never. Now, quit! Quit to once. 


He paid no heed to her, but laid his hand on Pedro’s 
shoulder and shook it vigorously, demanding : 

“What kind of a feller are you, anyway? Why in the 
name of sense didn’t you tell this thing while the boss was 
alive? Shucks! Half of you is Indian, and that means 
dirt. Known it all this time, and kept it hid! You’d 
ought to be drawn and quartered, that’s what you had !” 


A ROYAL GIFT. 


79 


Mrs. Benton advanced with threatening hand, and 
from force of habit he retreated before her, and sank into 
the nearest chair; so that, w'hen his mates entered, they 
found him sitting with bent head and down-hanging hands, 
as limp and inert as if his vitality had been sapped by the 
news he had heard. 

“What’s up?” asked “Marty,” making his respectful 
salutation to the mistress, but looking past her toward 
the carpenter, who, with another change of mood, sprang 
again to his feet and waved the fragment of mineral over- 
head, exclaiming: 

“This is ‘up’! Copper’s ‘up’! Sobrante’s ‘up’! And 
lucky the men that belong to it. Only — that old villain, 
yonder, has known it ever since forever, and was mean 
enough to keep his secret. That’s what he is, that Pedro, 
yonder !” 

Yet, with another whimsical change, he seized the shep- 
herd’s hand and wrung it till even that hardened member 
ached. But the Indian remained as calm and undisturbed, 
amid the torrent of blame or praise, as if he had been sit- 
ting alone at his weaving on the mesa. His soul was 
satisfied at last. He had done that which he had pondered 
doing for many years, without being able, heretofore, to 
bring his thought to action. Surely he had known that, 
locked within his own breast, his “secret” was worthless ; 
yet he had clung to it tenaciously. Now he had imparted 
it to others, and behold ! all the world knew it, even so soon. 
Well, that did not matter. It was no longer his. His part 
was ended. Meanwhile, on his beloved upland, there was 


80 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


a faithful collie watching for his return, and lambs bleat- 
ing, needing his care. Suddenly he rose, placed his cher- 
ished staff in Mrs. Trent’s hands, and bowing low, said: 

“Keep this, as I have kept it, where none but you may 
find. At the Nazidad I come once more, the last. AdiosJ' 

His departure was so unexpected that, at first, they did 
not try to prevent it, but Jessica was swift to follow and 
protest : 

“Not to-night, dear Pedro! Please not to-night. You 
have been so good to me, you must stay and be glad with 
us this one night. In the morning ” 

“In the morning the sheep will need new pasture. 
Adios, nina,” 

“Then, if go you must, it shall not be on foot. Wait I 
I know ! Prince, Mr. Hale’s horse, that he left with you 
on the mesa. It is here. The naughty children painted 
him, but I saw him in the corral, just now, and you shall 
ride him home. That is, if you will not stay, even for 
me.” 

“The Navidad. Till then, adios.” 

She had never heard him talk so much nor so well as 
since these few hours among his friends. He seemed to 
be almost another Pedro than the silent shepherd of the 
mesa, and as she followed him, taking his direct way to 
the paddock, she wondered at the uprightness of his bear- 
ing and the unconscious dignity which clothed him like a 
garment. Then she remembered something else — his blan- 
ket, and sprang to his side again, entreating : 


A ROYAL GIFT. 81 

“Just one five minutes more, Pedro. Your blanket. 
You must have a new one.” 

He hesitated and sighed. Then shook his head sadly. 
That which he had torn, to bind the dwarf, had been a 
Navajo weave, so fine and faultless that even he, the won- 
derful weaver, knew it for a marvel. There could not be 
its mate in all that country, nor had been since the old 
padres went and took with them, as he believed, all the 
wisdom of the world. 

Before he had caught and bridled the horse, Jessica was 
back, and playfully enveloped in a wonderful piece of cloth 
that made the Indian stare. If it were not the mate to 
his lost treasure, it was quite as fine and soft, as generous 
in size, and far cleaner. 

“See, dear old fellow. This was my father’s. My 
mother sends it to you with her love. Put it on, so I m.ay 
see how fine you look. Oh, grand ! When the children 
play ‘Indian’ why can’t they copy you, and not those dirty 
Diggers, that Ferd teaches them to be like! Pedro, you 
are splendid, and — I love you I I love you !” 

All at once, as she gazed upon him, there returned to 
her a memory of that dark time in the cavern’s pit, where 
he had found her, and which, in the general rejoicing over 
her safety she had, for the present, almost forgotten. By 
now, save for this old man, she might have been dead. 

He received the onslaught of her embrace exactly as 
he had accepted the gift of the blanket — in silence. There 
was a miOmentary lighting of his som.ber eyes, but no word, 
as, putting her quietly down upon the ground, he m.ounted 


82 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


the barebacked Prince and loped swiftly away into the 
darkness and solitude. 

Brighter by contrast was the room to which the little 
captain returned, after Prince and his rider had vanished 
into the night, and the circle of lamplighted faces gleamed 
with excitement. Everybody seemed trying to outtalk 
his neighbor, and only one glowering countenance showed 
dark by contrast; the face of Elsa Winkler, with its eyes 
angrily fixed upon the basket which Mrs. Trent held on 
her lap, quite forgetting what it contained in her listening 
to the others’ words. 

Suddenly, Samson brought his fist down upon the table, 
enforcing a brief silence, while demanding: 

“What’s amiss with using the capital on hand? There 
sits our ‘admiral,’ with money enough in that basket to 
start the whole business. Set Wolfgang to manage, and 
the rest of us to dig and delve. More’n one here has tried 
mining for a yellower metal than this” — holding up the 
bit of copper — “ ’twould do us proud to give the first pick 
to Sobrante’s fortune! Lads, what say?” 

“Ay, and right off I That’s what we say !” cried some- 
body, but Mrs. Trent lifted her hand, and they were 
silent. 

She had become as interested now as any of the others ; 
far more, indeed, since if this amazing tale of Pedro’s 
proved true she would be able, at last, to fulfill her hus- 
band’s interrupted life-work, and make Sobrante a power 
for good in the world. 

“What does Elsa say? Will she lend us this money?” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE FACE AT THE WINDOW. 

All waited breathlessly for Elsa’s answer. They knew 
her ^reed, or, rather, why she hoarded her money so 
closely, and were not so surprised, after all, when it came. 

“No, I cannot.” 

“Can’t? I should like to know why you can’t?” de- 
manded John Benton, indignantly, though Mrs. Trent pro- 
tested against his urgency by a nod of her head. 

“It is for the little one. It is mine. I want it already.” 

The ranch mistress at once extended the basket, but it 
was now the carpenter’s turn to object. 

“Please, ‘admiral,’ not so fast. Let her tell us, first, 
how much money she lost.” 

Elsa caught her breath. To save her life she could not 
have stated in exact figures the sum, because, though she 
had known to a dime before the robbery, at, and after that 
time, she had recklessly tossed aside the little that re- 
mained. This wasted portion belonged with the whole 
amount, and being as truthful as she was penurious, she 
hesitated. Her color came and went, as she looked anx- 
iously into John’s face, realizing that he had laid a trap 
for her and caught her in it. 

But the mistress comforted her, saying : 

“Never mind that, Elsa. I do not blame you for refus- 
ing to try experiments with what you have so hardly 


84 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS.' 


earned and so nearly lost. These are certainly your own 
little money bags, as I judge from their knitted covers; 
but it is just possible there may have been other money 
added to that was taken from you. So, tell me as nearly 
as you can, what you had, and we will examine them all 
together.’’ 

This was wise, and commended itself even to the eager 
Elsa, who stated promptly and proudly : 

“Three t’ousand of the dollars it was. All gold. Big 
gold and little ones. In them bags was lost entirely. In 
the others — I don’t know. Oh! I don’t know. It was 
much, much!” 

It was Wolfgang’s turn to interpose, and he did so, 
sternly : 

“Elsa, wife ! Three thousand dollars, and I not know it ! 
How dare you?” 

'‘Ach! how not dare I ? It was the new pick, or the new 
pushcart, or the new everything, is it not so? Well, then, 
if one would save one need not tell.” 

Mrs. Trent’s face saddened, and, seeing this, Jessica 
impatiently exclaimed : 

“Oh, I hate money! It’s always that which makes 
the trouble. It was about money that those New York 
folks made such wicked charges against my father. It 
was for a little money that you ^boys’ were so quick to 
ruin ‘Forty-niner’s’ character. It was money, and the 
greed for it, that changed Antonio from a good to a bad 
man.” 


THE PACE AT THE WINDOW. 


85 


'‘Hold on, captain. There wasn’t ever any ‘change’ in 
him. He was born that way.” 

“He was born a baby, wasn't he, John? All babies are 
good, I s’pose. It’s loving money has made Ferd do such 
dreadful things; and now, over a little money, Wolfgang 
and Elsa are quarreling, though I never heard them speak 
crossly to each other before. Oh, I hate it ! Give it all 
back to her, mother dear, and let us forget all that Pedro 
said. I, for my part, hope his old copper mine will never 
be dug out.” 

Some who heard her laughed, but the mother grew even 
graver than at first, and looked searchingly into her 
daughter’s face. Again there came to her mind the con- 
sciousness that the little girl was growing up in a strange 
fashion ; seeming both too Vv^ise and too simple for her 
years. It could never be any different at Sobrante, where 
one and all conspired to spoil her, though innocently 
enough, and from pure affection. How could she, single- 
handed, combat these hurtful influences? 

The answer came swiftly enough in a second thought: 
“Money.” 

If there were but a little more of that power for good as 
well as evil in her possession she could send the child to 
some fine school and have her educated properly. The 
separation would be like death in life to herself, but what 
true miother ever thought of self where her child was con- 
cerned? Certainly, not Gabriella Trent. It was with a 
little sigh that she put her arm about Lady Jess and drew 
her to her side, saying: 


86 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Here, daughter, you and John examine these bags to- 
gether, while the rest of us look on and tally for you. I 
want Elsa to have her own, at once.'’ 

They moved the books and papers from the table, and 
Jessica emptied the contents of the bags into one gleaming 
heap near the big lamp, whose light gave an added radi- 
ance to the coins, making more than one pair of eyes 
sparkle and stare. None could remember ever to have 
seen so large an amount displayed outside a bank window. 

Even John’s hands trembled slightly as he began to 
count the double eagles first, pushing each five of these 
toward his small co-laborer and reckoning: 

“One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred — one 
thousand !” 

“One thousand!” echoed Jessica, in turn handing the 
pile to her mother, while the others watched, counting each 
for himself in silence, ready to check any blunder that 
might be made. 

That is, the men were silent, but Elsa and Aunt Sally 
rather disturbed the proceedings; the former, by eagerly 
reaching out for the piles as each was arranged before the 
mistress, and being as regularly rebuked by the latter. 

“There you go again, woman! How can they count 
right if you don’t have patience? Keep your hands still, 
do,” said Mrs. Benton. 

“Keep your tongue, mother, too. Two thousand!” re- 
joined John. 

“Two — ^thousand!” cried Jessica, tallying. But her 


THE FACE AT THE WINDOW. 


87 


voice had now lost its impatience, and she began to have a 
very different feeling in regard to this “money,” which 
looked so real, and was so much needed at Sobrante. If 
Pedro’s “copper” could be transmuted into shining golden 
eagles, why, after all, she guessed she didn’t hate it quite 
so much. 

“Three — thousand — and — ain’t half — touched yet !” 
gasped Samson, throwing up his great hands in a gesture 
of astonishment. 

Elsa was also gasping then, and the expression of her 
face was changing into one from which Mrs. Trent invol- 
untarily turned her eyes. Cunning and avarice predomi- 
nated, and in the woman’s throat was a curious clicking 
sound, as if she had lost and were trying to find her voice. 
Which, when found, seemed not to belong to the good- 
natured Elsa, so changed it was : 

‘'Ach, me ! But I forgot already. I guess — it was not 
three t’ousand ; it was two times so much. That was seven 
t’ousand, is it not? The money of this America — it so 
confuse, yes,” and she tapped her forehead with one fat 
finger, while her eyes grew beady, and seemed to shrink in 
size as they gazed upon the wealth she coveted. 

But Wolfgang would have none of this. He was as 
honest as the sun, and, till that moment, had supposed his 
wife to be of one mind with him. Indeed, honest she had 
been, in thought and deed, until that terrible temptation 
was spread before her. 

“Elsa! Elsa Winkler! Is it my wife you was and 
would lie-die— for a bit of that rubbish T' 


8S 


JESSICA, THE HEIIEM. 


'Rubbish’ is good,” commented “Marty,” under his 
breath, but nobody smiled. 

The woman cowered. Accustomed as she was to domi- 
neer over the seemingly weak-willed man, there had been 
times, within her memory, when he had thrown off her 
rule and asserted himself to a degree that terrified her. 
She had stumbled upon one of those times now, and sank 
back in her place with a deprecating gesture, advancing 
the flimsy protest : 

“Are they not my bags, so? Sewed I them not with my 
own hands out of the skin of the little kid was killed ? The 
covers I knitted with ” 

The miner raised his hand, and she dropped her eyes 
before him. 

“Give her what belongs, if you will, good lady, and let 
us be gone,” he said, pulling his forelock respectfully to 
Mrs. Trent. 

“Gone ! Why no, Wolfgang, not to-night. It’s a long 
way, and you should wait till morning. Indeed, you 
should,” she replied, at the same time sending a question- 
ing glance toward John Benton, and pushing toward Elsa 
all the empty bags and three of the thousand dollar piles. 

For the carpenter nodded swift acquiescence, on his part 
longing to be rid of “them miserly Dutchmen, barring the 
man.” 

Elsa rapidly recounted, and bestowed the eagles within 
their receptacles, and these again, wrapped in a handker- 
chief, within her bosom. Then, as coolly as if she had not 


THE FACE AT THE WINDOW. 


89 


made an unpleasant exhibition of herself, she turned to her 
hostess and smiled : 

“I go now, mistress. I thank you already for one good 
time I have. It is to buy the mine, one day, for my child. 
I must be going. Yes, I must. The stew! Ach! how I 
forgot! The cat — it was a good stew, no? And the cat 
has eat the stew !” 

“Then you’d better stew the cat!” suggested Marty, 
with a facetiousness to which she paid no heed. 

Holding out her hand for Otto to take it, she com- 
manded : 

“Little heart, but come. It is in bed you should be, yes. 
Good-by, all,” adding in German, “May you sleep well!” 

Wolfgang followed the retreating pair, but turned on 
the threshold to make his obeisance to the ranch mis- 
tress, and to say, “At your service, good lady. My pick 
and my head.” Then, bowing again toward all the com- 
pany, he disappeared. 

Everybody felt the relief of their departure, and Aunt 
Sally humorously threw a kiss after them, remarking, with 
a sniff: 

“Blessed be nothing, if somethin’ is going to make a hog 
out of a decent woman. That there Elsy’d been content 
with half she got if she hadn’t seen the rest that heap. I’m 
a good deal like Jessie, here. I think money’s the root of 
all evil.” 

“That ain’t an original observation, mother, though you 
do speak as if it was. Money’s the root of a pretty con- 


90 


JESSICA,. THE HEIRESS. 


sid’able comfort, too ; and Fd like to know, for one, where 
in creation all this that’s left came from,” returned John. 

“There’s no doubt in my mind, that it came out of the 
Trent pocketbook, every dollar of it !” said Samson. “But 
how it came into Ferd’s fist is more’n I can guess. Seems 
if even a half-wit would steal from his own brother, and 
it must have passed through Antonio’s hands first.” 

“Antonio’s brother !” cried Marty, incredulously. 

“That’s the true word. Pedro knew it, and the master 
knew it. The ‘admiral’ heard it, first, to-day; along with 
that other secret about the copper. Ain’t any harm in 
mentioning it, is there?” said Samson. 

The lady laughed, and answered : 

“Even if there were the harm is done, herder. But 
that’s right. I wish no secrets at Sobrante. I like to feel 
that we are all one family in interests and affection, as my 
husband wished. And now remains this gold. What is to 
be done with it? Where shall we bestow it that it may 
be both safe and ready when needed?” 

Aunt Sally immediately went and closed the door and 
locked it ; then fastened the windows and pulled the shades 
over them. At which a shout arose that the old lady heeded 
not a whit. She clasped her hands over her breast, and 
her round face turned pale, as she whispered shrilly 
enough for all to hear: 

“We’re undone ! We’re all undone ! We’re a passel of 
fools — and — and Oh, suz !” 

Down she dropped into a chair, and there was no more 
laughter. She was not a timid woman, and her fright was 


THE FACE AT THE WINDOW. 


91 


evident. Her son stepped to her side and laid his hand on 
her shaking shoulder, demanding; 

“What ails you, mother ? What did you see ? Why did 
you lock the doors ?” 

“I— I ” 

“Quit chattering your teeth together. What did you 

seer 

“Oh, son! I seen a — a — ghost!” 

“Trash!” 

Her courage began to return, and her anger to rise. She 
retorted promptly : 

“No trash ! A ghost. A spirit ! As sure as I’m a-set- 
tin’ here this minute ; the spirit of — of ” 

It aggravated John that she should pause and peep be- 
hind her, to be sure the windows were still covered. 

“The spirit of what tomfoolery has possessed you, 
mother, I’d like to know ? What’s the use of scarin’ folks 
half to death ? As if we hadn’t had enough things happen 
without your cuttin’ up, too !” 

“Hold your tongue, John Benton, you sassy boy. As 
sure as I’m alive, I saw the ghost of Antonio Bernal peek- 
ing in at that open window afore I shut it. He was so 
white I couldn’t tell him from paper, and so thin I ’peared 
to see clean through him.” 

“Pshaw, mother ! You’re overtired, and for once in your 
life really nervous. I reckon it’s the sight of more money 
than ever come your way before. Well, forget it. ’Tisn’t 
yours nor mine. We’ve no cause to worry. I’ll step and 


92 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


get you a drink of water, and then you’ll feel all right, and 
would better go to bed.” 

“I don’t want water, and I shan’t go to bed. I shan’t 
close my eyes this night, John Benton, and you needn’t 
touch to tell me so.” 

“All right. Stay awake if you like. It’s nothing to me,” 
ansv/ered the exasperated man, who, in spite of his strong 
common sense, had been more startled than he cared to ad- 
mit, even to himself. But, glancing at Mrs. Trent and 
Jessica, he now felt that it would be wiser to express his 
own fear, which was of nothing supernatural. 

“Mother’s upset, ‘admiral,’ and don’t you let her upset 
you, too. The fact is, we’re a very careless set at So- 
brante, where everything is — or used to be — all open and 
above board. It’s a new thing for keys to be turned on 
this ranch, and it’s a new thing for us to go suspecting 
one another of sneak notions. I, for one, am ashamed 
enough of the way I’ve felt about old Ephraim Marsh, and 
if he don’t vshow up pretty soon, I’ll make a special trip to 
Los Angeles to tell him so. Even if I have to foot it the 
heft of the way. 

“How.somever, all the world ain’t as honest as them 
that Iiad the honor of knowin’ Cassius Trent. There’s 
been a power of strangers on these premises durin’ these 
last days; and it stands to reason that among ’em one 
villain might have crept in. I ain’t sayin’ there was. I’ll 
never accuse nobody again — ’cept — ’cept ” 

Here the honest fellow interrupted himself with a laugh ; 
remembering his ingrained suspicion of the two Bernals, 


THE FACE AT THE WINDOW. 


93 


which he would never even try to overcome. But he went 
on again : 

“Mother thinks she’s seen somethin’, and like enough 
she has. There might be some scamp bangin’ around; 
and if there was, and he looked through that window and 
saw all this gold, I don’t wonder his face was ghosty- 

lookin’, nor Somebody stop me talking and answer 

this : Where’s the safest place to stow that pile ?” 

For a moment nobody replied. Mrs. Trent was wish- 
ing, most heartily, that the money had never come into her 
possession, since she did not know to whom she should 
restore it ; and beginning to feel, with Jessica, that “money” 
did carry discord and danger with it. 

But the little captain was now all eagerness, and ex- 
claimed : 

“Oh ! how I wish Fd seen it ! Aunt Sally, I never saw 
a ghost in all my life, never! I thought they were just 
make-believes, but if you saw one, of course they’re true. 
Do you s’pose we could see it again if we went out to look ? 
Will you go with me?” 

“I ? I! Well, I guess not. Not a step will I step ” 

“But several steps Fll step, ]\Irs. Benton. I advise the 
money going into the office safe, that old Ephraim uses 
when he’s at home. One of us better camp out on the 
lounge in the room there till we get rid of whoever’s cash 
that is. Fll bunk there myself, if you like, Mrs. Trent, 
after I step outside and see if all’s serene with my pris- 
oner,” said Samson, cheerfully. 


94 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“May I go with you, Samson ? May I, mother ?” asked 
Jessica. 

The mother’s consent was somewhat reluctant, for now 
she could not bear to have her darling out of sight. Yet 
if anybody on earth was to be trusted with so precious a 
charge it was the herder. Besides, she was annoyed at 
this talk of “ghosts,” and knew that the shortest way to 
convince Jessica how nonsensical it was, would be by al- 
lowing her to go out and seek for them herself. 

But Samson answered cordially : 

“You do me proud, little one. Suppose you take your 
rifle, and then, if we see any specter you can pin it to the 
mission wall, and we’ll have a show, charging ten pins’ 
admission.” 

They went out, laughing and gay; the child clinging 
to the giant’s hand, and hoping that she might really see 
the phantom of Aunt Sally’s story, for she had no fear 
concerning it. They came back, five minutes later, look- 
ing grave and seriously alarmed. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE PRISONER DISAPPEARS. 

“What’s happened?” asked Mrs. Trent, foreboding 
fresh trouble, since, of late, trouble had become so familiar 
a visitor. 

“Well, ma’am, the bird has flown.” 

“Please explain, Samson,” she anxiously urged. 

“That bird of dark plumage — Ferd, the dwarf. He’s 
escaped, vamoosed, took wings and flew.” 

“Oh, Samson ! I’m so sorry. I hoped you would look 
after him until I could find some suitable institution in 
which to place him. It’s time he should be helped, for if 
he’s so sharp to do evil, he must have equal capacity for 
better things.” 

“Yes, ma’am. So I allow ; and I had them same hopes 
myself, not ten minutes ago. I hadn’t said a word to any- 
body, but after you gave him to me, I remembered what 
the little captain had commanded, for it sort of struck 
home, that did. I ain’t overly saintlike, myself, but what 
of goodness I’d catched from you all I meant to pass on 
to the coyote — I mean, Ferdinand Bernal. I reckon it was 
his face, ’stead o^a ghost’s, that Aunt Sally saw by the 
window.” 

“I thought you locked him in some room?” 

“Lock and double-locked. Bolted, besides. Worst is, 


96 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


all bolts and locks are just as I left ’em. Had the key in 
my pocket and went in, saluting, and there wasn’t anybody 
to salute. Well, ma’am, if he’s out, and ’twas him saw 
that money, there’d better two of us sleep beside it, rather 
than one. He’s the uncanniest creature ever I met, and 
I hope never to meet his mate.” 

“Very well. I do not see what harm he can do, after 
all, except to himself, now. Jessica, dear, please bring the 
key, and John can put this money in the safe. If it v/eren’t 
for Elsa’s satisfaction, I should regret that Pedro ever 
found it. Then we must all to sleep. It’s been a most 
eventful day, and we are tired.” 

Before long the whole household was asleep; but the 
last to seek her rest was' Mrs. Benton ; nor did she do that 
until she had locked whatever locks would fasten, peeped 
under every bed, and invaded the sacredness of Wun 
Lung’s “heatheny den.” Then she placed her Bible on 
one side her bed, a broom and horsewhip on the other, 
and lay down to watch, explaining : 

“ ’Cause I’m goin’ to watch, even if I am resting my 
body horizontal. I’m so tired I can’t set up straight, no- 
how, and I shan’t wink a wink till daylight comes and the 
rest are moving.” 

Plaving called out this valiant resolution to Mrs. 
Trent, in the adjoining room, .she instantly closed her 
heavy lids, and opened them no more till a series of thumps 
upon her shoulders aroused her. Then she realized that 
Ned and Luis were reminding her of yesterday’s promise 


THE PRISONER DISAPPEARS. 


97 


that, if they’d eat no more plum cake overnight they 
should have some for their breakfasts. 

“Land of love ! What you doing ? Is it daylight ? Why, 

’twas dark as Egypt when I lay down, and I Can it 

be that I — I — have overslept?” 

“Plum cake. Aunt Sally,” reminded Ned. 

“Plumsally !” cried Luis, with a forcible whack. Which 
was instantly returned, and with such added interest that 
he ran howling away, leaving the disturbed matron to scold 
herself at leisure for her lapse from duty, while she hur- 
riedly dressed. 

Naturally, she had to submit to some teasing on account 
of her valiant resolution of the previous night that she 
“wouldn’t wink a wink,” but Mrs. Trent was delighted 
that the faithful woman had, at last, enjoyed a needed rest. 
Besides, everything was bright at the ranch on that happy 
morning. Even Wun Lung had caught the infection of 
Christmas preparations, and was intent upon providing 
some dainties of his own, against the approaching festival, 
which should so far outshine the homelier pies and pud- 
dings of Mrs. Benton, as his own revered country out- 
shone, in his opinion, even this pleasant one in which, at 
present, his lot was cast. He had also felt good-natured 
enough to put aside a plentiful breakfast for his mate — or 
foe — of the kitchen ; and since it was such a time of happi- 
ness, Aunt Sally condescended not only to eat it, but to 
pronounce it “good.” 

Hearing this unexpected praise, the Chinaman wound 
and unwound his precious queue, after a fashion he had of 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


expressing satisfaction; and smilingly advised Mrs. Ben- 
ton to “step black polch/’ where she would find things to 
do. 

So to the back porch the good lady retreated, carrying 
with her great dishes of fruit to prepare, and not forget- 
ting two enormous slices or the rich plum cake she had 
promised the little boys, and which would have made less 
active, hardily reared children ill. 

Mrs. Trent had moved her sewing machine to the porch, 
and Jessica sat near, with a little table before her, trying to 
wTite the Christmas invitations that had been so delayed, 
and to express them after a style which should not too 
painfully expose her own ignorance. The result was not 
so bad, considering the slight training the child had had, 
and her few years, yet it did not satisfy the mother, who 
felt that education was the one good thing, and who longed 
to have her child’s bright intellect developed as it should 
be. 

Poor Jessica had written and rewritten the note in- 
tended for Mr. Hale a number of times, and still had it 
returned to her with many corrections, after Mrs. Trent’s 
reading of it, and now laid it aside with a sigh of dis- 
couragement. 

“Can’t that wait a while, mother? If I may write to 
my darling Ninian Sharp, I’ll get myself rested. He 
doesn’t mind trifles like wrong capitals in the right places 
— oh ! dear, I mean — I don’t know what I mean. But may 

ir 


THE PRISONER DISAPPEARS. 


99 


^‘Certainly, dear. Though, first, come here and let me 
try the length of this sleeve.’’ 

Lady Jess obeyed readily, for new clothes were rare 
events in her simple life. This natty little “Christmas 
frock” was white, with scarlet trimmings, and quite suffi- 
ciently in contrast with the plain blue flannel ones of every- 
day use to captivate her fancy and make her patient under 
the tedious process of “fitting.” Yet she was glad to re- 
turn to her table and her letter to Ninian Sharp, which she 
found no difficulty in composing, since she was free to do 
as she chose. 

And this was the epistle which, after some delay, 
reached the newspaper man, at a time when he happened 
to need cheering up, and brought new life and interest into 
his overworked brain : 

“My Very dear mister sharp: My mother and the 
children and aunt sally, and Me and all the rest the Boys, 
are well and send Their Luv. We are Now Inviteing you 
To come and Spend the holidays at dear Sobrante. every- 
body is Coming, most, and i Got lost and was found in a 
Hole. The Hole is in the ground, there was Money in It, 
that the Boys said my fortynineer stole and He Didn’t. 
It was elsa winklers and wolfgang was mad at her, and 
there was a Ghost, but it got away, else samson and ]\Ie 
would have shot it against the mission cordiror wall and 
had a nexibition. and ferd that was lock up got away 
two; and say, please my dear mister sharp. Will you see 
if this stone that’s in the packkage is any good? Pedro, 
thats a hundred years, says it’s copper and copper is worth 
money. We need some money bad, and i hope it is, and 


LofC. 


100 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


I don’t no anybody as clever as yon. so Please write write 
av^^ay and tell ns if yon will come and tell ephraim Marsh, 
that the Boys will be at marion railway station with a 
bnckborde and horses enongh. i am leaking something to 
pnt in everybodys stocking, i Began to make the things 
after last Christinas, that ever was, and i Have more than 
twenty-five presnnts to Make and i Have got three done, 
one of Them is Yonrs. yonr Loving friend, 

‘‘Jessica trent.’’^ 

When the letters were completed, the little captain felt 
that she needed recreation, and her mother agreed with 
her ; bnt, nnlike her former habit, conld not consent to the 
child’s going anywhere alone. The recent terrible expe- 
rience had banished from Mrs. Trent’s heart that com- 
fortable sense of security which had prevented life on the 
isolated ranch from being a lonely one. She now felt, as 
Aunt Sally phrased it: 

“Afraid of your own shadder, ain’t you, Gabrieli’, and 
well you may be. In the midst of life we are in the hands 
of them Bernals, and no knowin’. That son John of mine 
may try to hoodwink me that ’twasn’t no ghost I saw last 
night, but ghost it was if ever one walked this earth. It 
wasn’t, so to speak, a spooky ghost, neither; it was an 
avaricious one, and it wasn’t after no folks, but ’twas after 
that money, sharp. Ain’t disappeared, for good, neither. 
Liable to spring up and out anywhere happens; and you 
do well, Gabrieli’, not to trust our girl off alone again. Not 
right to once. Where’s she hankerin’ to travel now? 
She’d ought to be learnt to sew patchwork, instead of rid- 


THE PRISONER DISAPPEARS. 


101 


mg all over the country, hitherty-yender, a bareback on a 
broncho or a burro. If she was my girl ” 

“If she was your girl, dear Aunt Sally, you couldn't 
have been more anxious than you were while she was lost. 
And the life is good for her. It's right for all women to 
understand sewing and household arts, but the captain 
isn't a woman yet, and I have faith she'll acquire all fitting 
knowledge in due time. She's anxious to ride to Pedro's. 
She says there was something different in his manner, last 
night, from ordinary, and, indeed, I fancied so myself. 
She's gone to find which one of the boys can best leave 
his work to ride with her." 

“It'll be John Benton, Gabriella Trent. You see if it 
ain't. That man just sees the world through Jessica's eyes, 
and he’s never got over being jealous 'at he wasn’t the one 
took her to Los Angeles that time. If he had all the work 
in creation piled up before him, and she happened to say 
'Come,' some other whither, whither, 'twould be, and not 
a minute’s hesitation. Anyhow, it’s Marty’s day for mail- 
ridin', and there he lopes this instant." 

The ranchmen took turns in riding to the post, each 
esteeming it a privilege, and finding nothing but pleasure 
in the sixty miles’ gallop to Marion and back. At that 
moment, indeed, Marty was swinging out of sight on his 
own fine mount, the mailbag before him on his heavy 
Mexican saddle, the wind created by the swift motion of 
the beast raising the brim of his broad hat and thrilling 
him with that sense of abounding life and freedom which 
comes so forcibly to men in the wide spaces of the earth. 


102 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


He was the youngest of the '‘boys/’ even though past 
his first youth, and the “life” of the ranchmen’s quar- 
ters, where all liked and some loved him. 

The women on the porch watched him till he became 
a mere speck in the distance, and Aunt Sally sighed: 

“That George Cromarty is as likely a youth as ever I 
knew. He’s that good to his old mother, back in the 
East, I tell my own son John, he ought to profit by such 
an example. I should hate to have anything happen to 
him. Yes, indeedy, I should hate to have a single bad 
thing happen to poor George Cromarty.” 

A little nervous shiver ran through Mrs. Trent’s slen- 
der frame, yet she turned upon her companion, as she 
threaded her needle, with a laugh, exclaiming: 

“Oh! you dear old croaker! Why can’t you let well 
enough alone without mentioning more evil? You know 
the old saying that to speak of trouble is to invite its 
visitation. Surely, there was nothing about to-day’s 
postman to suggest disaster. George is a typical ranch- 
man, and my husband used to point him out to visitors 
as what a man might be, who grew up, or old, where 
‘there was room enough.’ Big-hearted, full of fun, ten- 
der as a woman, but intolerant of meanness and evil do- 
ing. It would be a dark day for Sobrante if ill befell 
our ‘Marty.’” 

“Well, I don’t know. Something’s going to go wrong 
somewhere. I feel it in my bones, seems if. There, I 
told you so! Yonder comes that lazy boy of mine and 
Jessie. There’s more things needing him here on this 


THE PRISONER DISAPPEARS. 


103 


place than you could shake a stick at, yet off he’ll go 
trapseing just at a nod from his captain.” 

“Don’t begrudge them their happiness, Aunt Sally. 
Certainly, after grief, it is their due. Well, John, will 
you act escort for the little lady of Sobrante?” asked its 
mistress. 

“Will I not? And do me proud. She ain’t to be 
trusted with any of the flighty ones, Samson now, 


Mrs. Trent’s laughter — that morning as heart-whole 
and free as a girl’s — interrupted the ranchman’s dispar- 
aging comments on his fellows, sedate grayheads as most 
of them were; for well she understood the universal de- 
votion of all to their darling captain. 

“Oh, John, I can scarcely associate the idea of frivolity 
or carelessness with our big Samson ; but wait a moment, 
please, before you start. There’s such a store of good 
things left, though in fragments, that I’d like to pack a 
basket for Pedro. I wish he did not insist upon living 
so alone. He is so old and I feel, as the native Cali- 
fornians used, that the older a person grew the more 
precious. I wish you’d try to persuade him to let some- 
body else take his place with the sheep, and to arrange 
his small affairs so that when he comes down for his 
Navidad he will remain. There’s enough to keep him 
busy and happy here.” 

“I’ll try, mistress. But he’ll not be persuaded. Old 
Pedro wouldn’t think he could breathe down here in the 


104 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


valley, for long at a time. Well, good-by. Ready, cap- 
tain?’’ 

“Ready, John, as soon as mother gets the basket. 
Quiet, Buster. I believe you’re more eager for a canter 
than I am, even.” 

Then when the basket had been handed up to John, 
the pair merrily saluted the women on the porch and 
rode away; but Mrs. Benton called shrilly after them: 

“Turn back and start over again! Turn back, I say! 
Both your horses set oflf left feet first. That means bad 
luck as sure as you are born!” 

But nobody paid any heed to Aunt Sally’s forecasts of 
evil, save to laugh at them. Only Mrs. Trent again felt 
that nervous shiver seize her, and but for shame’s sake 
would have begged her daughter to defer her ride until 
another day. 

However, shame prevailed; or common sense, which 
is far better; and well it was — or ill — that the riders 
kept serenely on their way, indifferent to “signs” and 
ignorant of what lay before them. 


CHAPTER X. 


ON THE ROAD HOME. 

The train from Los Angeles rolled slowly up to the 
little station at Marion and the asthmatic engine seemed 
to wheeze its relief that its labor was ended, as an old 
man stepped from the last car and looked eagerly along 
the platform. Then a certain degree of disappointment 
overspread his fine face, and shouldering a heavy parcel, 
strapped round with leather to give a holding place, he 
strode rather unsteadily forward over the same sandy 
road, or street, which had tried Ninian Sharp’s patience 
on his first visit to the post town. 

Yet, after a little, the man grew accustomed to his 
own stiffness of limb and moved with a sort of halting 
swiftness which soon brought him to the little hostelry 
of one Aleck McLeod, where a group of ranchmen were 
sunning themselves while they waited the distribution of 
the mail. 

It was noticeable that the porch was spotlessly clean 
and that none of the idlers profaned its cleanliness by so 
much as one expectoration of tobacco juice, though all 
were either smoking or chewing that weed. They had 
far too great respect for Janet, Aleck’s wife, and for the 
labor that cleanliness meant in that waterless region. 
They were all deep in the discussion of the late events 
at Sobrante and none heard the old traveler’s approach 


106 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


over the soft ground, till he stood close beside them with 
his foot on the lower step. 

But he heard them and their eager talk ; and, pausing 
a bit, the more completely to surprise them by an in- 
tended halloo, he forget that and all else save what they 
were saying. 

“It was ten to one she was never found. ’Pears like a 
miracle to me, that old Pedro was led to find that very 
cave just when he did. My wife claims it was a miracle, 
same as used to be in Bible days, and you can’t talk her 
out of it. You know how women are,” said one ranch- 
man, who had aided in the search for Jessica. 

“Well, first and last, them Trents have done a heap 
for this section of our ‘native.’ And they’re square folks, 
every identical of them. Even the little tacker, that 
boy, Ned. There’s more in his head than he gets credit 
for, and one these days he’ll show there is. He’s a mas- 
ter hand with a gun, baby as he is, and if he’d had one 
handy I wager he’d have put some shot into the ugly 

carcass of that Ferd But he hadn’t the iron and he 

didn’t,” added another smoker. 

“It was a prime spread Mis’ Trent gave us. Must have 
took about all the provisions she had in store, but nothing 
was too good for them that helped her in her trouble. 
Or tried to help, same thing; since it was her own man, 
Pedro, found the child. Away down in the bottom of a 
pit in the depth of an unknown cave ! Think of it, some- 
body! It just makes my hair rise on end, knowin’ there 


ON THE ROAD HOME. 


107 


is such a fool and scoundrel joined in one dwarf’s body. 
Hello! hel— lo!” 

The last speaker’s words ended in a sort of screech of 
astonishment and recognition, as a hard hand was laid 
upon his shoulder, and Ephraim Marsh demanded, 
fiercely : 

“What’s that you say, neighbor?” 

“Why, hello, Marsh! Where’d you drop from?” cried 
one, rising and extending a hand in greeting. 

“You’re a sight to cure sick folks !” shouted another, 
pressing to “Forty-niner’s” side, and slapping the veter- 
an’s shoulder in high good will. 

But Ephraim had no feeling at present, save anxiety 
to know what their discussion had meant ; and, all talking, 
they laid a succinct history of the last few days before 
him. He listened in increasing alarm and amazement 
and his old limbs tottered beneath him, so that he called 
out, hastily: 

“Give me a seat, somebody, quick, before I fall. I — 
I — to think of my little gell — my own sweet-faced, lovin’ 

little gell Oh, I can’t believe it ! I can’t and I won’t. 

It’s some plaguey ‘Californy yarn’ you’re passin’ the time 
with. Atlantic ! But you might have chose a likelier sub- 
ject to fool over, you might.” 

But Aleck himself had seen the arrival through the 
window and came out to greet him with the heartiness 
accorded all the Sobrante people, and to assure him that 
the story was all true; and that, after all, it were better 
that he had not been at home when the trouble came; 


108 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“for it would have broke your heart, ‘Forty-niner,’ into 
more pieces than old Stiffleg broke your bones, and it 
wouldn’t have healed so soon, neither. But, come in, 
come in, boy, and have a mouthful of dinner. Janet has as 
fine a dish of haggis as ever I tasted in Aberdeen at home, 
and it should relish to you, after all that hospital fare 
and so on. Janet! Janet! Here’s Ephraim Marsh! 
Come welcome him!” 

And Janet came quickly, like her husband cordial and 
sympathetic, and led the deeply moved frontiersman into 
her own kitchen, where no uninvited ranchman dared in- 
trude, and there served him well with good things, in- 
cluding the haggis. And as she served she talked in a 
wise, womanly way that soothed his agitation and turned 
his thoughts from enmity against the dwarf into thanks- 
giving that now all was well. 

“For since it is over and done with we can reckon the 
gain. The sweet bit bairnie has won for herself fresh 
friends. In all the countryside there was but one feel- 
ing, ‘The child must be found.’ ’No other thing was of 
any moment, and found she was, by a man so much older 
than any of the rest that nobody, not even you, can 
grudge him the honor. More hot milk? Oat cake? 
Nothing? Well, well; for a man that’s traveling you’ve 
a small appetite. Must be off already and pack your own 
bundle? Why, friend, you would better leave that till 
one the boys rides up for the mail. Due before this, in- 
deed, for Sobrante ranchers are ever keen for their post 
stuff, No? A horse, then? Aleck was going to do a 


ON THE ROAD HOME. 


109 


bit of plowing with her, later on, but he’ll eagerly give 
over that for you.” 

But Ephraim felt that he could delay for nothing more, 
not even for the arrival of a Sobrante messenger; and 
as for Jean, the sorrel mare — he and she were old ac- 
quaintances, and he declined her services with a grim 
smile, saying: 

‘Thank you, Janet, it’s kindly offered, but I’m in haste 
and I’d rather trust my own lame leg than her four lag- 
ging ones. Besides, if Aleck has been afield in this search 
he’ll be behindhand in his work, and he’s a hand to keep 
things up to the level line. Good-by, good-by. Oh ! 
wait a bit, though. I’d clean forgot that I put a scrap of 
white Scotch linen and a yard or two of plaid bodice 
stuff in my pack for you. This business of my captain 
getting lost has shaken my wits.” 

Though Janet protested against the trouble her face 
glowed at prospect of her gifts, and as she assisted him 
to unstrap and refasten his canvas sack, and even begged 
to be shown the simple remembrances he had procured 
for everybody he knew “at home” ; not least among them 
being calicoes of brilliantly tinwashable colors for Aunt 
Sally’s patchwork. Then he set off alone, staff in hand, 
stolidly yet swiftly covering the ground with that halting 
stride of his that soon took him out of sight. 

The assembled ranchmen received their own mail mat- 
ter, mounted and rode away; and there settled over the 
little town that monotonous quiet v/hich would not be 
broken again until the arrival, of the evening train, when, 


no 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


possibly, some chance passenger might alight on the de- 
serted platform. 

Meanwhile, Ephraim was passing over the level road 
toward “home,” feeling keener delight and longing with 
each step’s advance, and when he came to a little branch 
trail, where a rude signpost stated the fact that he had 
come “Five miles from Marion,” he made his first halt, 
sitting to rest for a few moments under the eucalyptus 
trees bordering the arroyo. The branch road led to and 
disappeared among a group of buildings, some distance 
to the north, on the ranch of one Miguel Solano, a friend 
of Antonio Bernal, and a Mexican of ill-repute. The 
ranch was comparatively new and was rich in olive or- 
chards and all the conveniences for producing a fine qual- 
ity of oil, and had been bought and arranged by an 
easterner with all the accessories of profitable farming. 
Death had put an end to the settler’s industry, and the 
property had come, at a low figure, into Solano’s hands; 
whereupon everything industrious lapsed, neglect and 
discomfort usurping the place of thrifty comfort. 

Gazing toward this place, Ephraim reflected that: “If 
that Greaser had half as much snap as he has wickedness 
he’d be a rich man. As ’tis, honest folks sort of give 
Solano’s a wide berth. I’m thirsty as a dog and wouldn’t 
mind havin’ a drink out that artesian well they have there, 
but — Atlantic ! There’s somebody already stoopin’ over 
it; looks mighty familiar!” 

Then the old man stood up and shielded his eyes with 
his hand as he peered into the distance, ending his scru- 


ON THE ROAD HOME. 


Ill 


tiny with a shake of his fist in the direction he had gazed, 
and muttering aloud : 

“No, I’m better off here. Queer how you can recognize 
a snake, no matter how far off ! That’s Ferd, the dwarf ; 
and if I was near enough to touch him I couldn’t* keep 
my fingers off his dirty throat, nohow, till I’d choked the 

life out of him ! Ugh ! When I think But I mustn’t 

think. I must just get up and jog on till I see a prettier 
sight than that. If I can spy the hunchback at one mile 
off I can see my little captain’s bonny head at ten. Home, 
old ‘Forty-niner’ ! Home’s the word !” 

As if the thought of Jessica had put new strength into 
his body Ephraim again shouldered his pack and started 
forward ; but he had proceeded a short distance only 
when he again halted and this time in consternation. On 
the road before him, where it dipped slightly into a hol- 
low, lay the prostrate figure of a man, face downward 
in the dust; and from the shrubbery near by came the 
helpless floundering of some big animal, and its occa- 
sional cry of distress, than which there is no sound more 
pitiful in all the world. 

Away flew the pack, and Ephraim bent over the man, 
gently turning him over, and crying in fresh dismay: 

“It’s Marty ! George Cromarty, of all men, dead as. a 
doornail !” 

Alas ! Ephraim’s home-coming was proving anything 
but the delight he had anticipated. To be met first by the 
story of the trouble which had visited Sobrante and now 
by this dreadful discovery almost unnerved him; but he 


112 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


was a man of action and his hand flew to Marty’s breast 
to feel if his heart still beat. With the other hand he 
softly brushed the dust from the rigid features and 
rubbed the colorless temples. After a second or two his 
face brightened, and he cried aloud, as if the other might 
hear and be cheered: 

“Well, you aren’t a dead men, after all, Marty, my lad ! 
But Fd give a heap, this minute, for a bit of cold water 
to give you. And, Atlantic ! I believe Fm losing my wits. 
’Course, he’s got it himself, handy. All the boys carry 
a flask in their pockets, even on the short ride to post, 
but Marty, being teetotal, fills his with water and gets 
laughed at for his notions. A mighty good notion it’ll 
prove for him if it saves his life, and here goes !” 

Raising Marty’s lean body so that his head rested on 
the fallen bundle, Ephraim secured the flask, found it full, 
and began to moisten the white lips; then, cautiously, to 
force a few drops down the stiffening throat. Success 
soon crowned his efforts since, fortunately, the ranchman 
was merely stunned, not killed, by the ugly fall he had 
taken when his horse so suddenly pitched forward and 
tossed him overhead against the pile of rocks. 

For it was a horse in agony which sent that moving 
appeal from the thicket near by, and as soon as “Forty- 
niner” was sure that the man was recovering, though he 
could not as yet speak, he sought the poor beast and saw, 
to his distress, that for it there was no respite save in 
death. 

“Well, well, well ! This is a bad job all round, but 


ON THE ROAD HOME. 


113 


better a horse than a man, and lucky for both I came 
when I did. If I had a gun I’d end the misery of one, 
straight off. And maybe Marty has. I’ll look and see.” 

Returning to the road he was greeted by a prolonged 
stare from the dazed ranchman, who had, indeed, been 
able to drag his body to a sitting posture, but vainly 
sought to understand what had happened. 

Ephraim spoke to him, asking in a matter-of-fact tone : 

“Got a revolver with you, lad?” 

“Eh? W-h-a-t?” returned Marty, wonder dawning 
upon him at finding who his companion was. “You — 
Eph?” 

“Course. Who else ! Been quite a spell since we two 
met, but better late than never. Got a pistol, I say?” 

“What for?” 

The sharpshooter hesitated, then gave an evasive an- 
SAver : 

“Powerful long since I done any practicin’, and feel 
like I better try my hand.” 

At that instant there was another heavy floundering 
behind the bushes and another brutish moan of pain. 
With this full consciousness came to the injured ranch- 
man and he tried to rise, crying in his own distress: 

“That’s Comanche!” 

“Forty-niner” gravely nodded. 

“He’s hurt ?” demanded Marty, as if he defied the an- 
swer to be affirmative. 

Ephraim turned away his face. Ta them, horses were 


114 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


almost as human beings, and the love of a master for his 
beast was something fraternal. 

“Help me to him,” said the ranchman, staggering to his 
feet. 

“Better not, lad. Best trust to me,” protested the elder 
man. 

“Trust— what?” 

The look in Ephraim’s eyes was all the answer needed 
to this fierce question, and Marty turned away his own 
gaze as he faltered the next one: 

“Has it come to that?” 

“Yes, mate, but take it like a man. Better him than 
you, and — give me the gun.” 

Marty straightened and stiffened himself. 

“Help me to him. Something’s wrong with my legs. 
I’ll see for myself. If it must be, I’ll do it for myself.” 

The frontiersman understood the sentiment and re- 
spected it. He had had to do a like hard duty for his 
own horseflesh before that, and he had always felt it a 
sort of murder. He did not look at Marty’s face as he 
carefully guided his wavering steps into the thicket and 
the presence of the suffering Comanche, where one look 
sufficed his master. 

“Oh, you poor fellow!” 

For an instant the tall head stooped to the level of the 
struggling animal, and a strange, expressive look passed 
between the great equine eyes and the misty ones of the 
man, Then Marty’s hand went swiftly around to his 


ON THE ROAD HOME. 


115 


pocket, there was the click of a weapon, a flash and re- 
port, and Comanche moved no more. 

More shaken and ill from this deed than from his ter- 
rible fall, Marty sat long in silence by Ephraim’s side 
beneath the eucalyptus trees; then suddenly rousing, ex- 
claimed : 

“Now, to find out the cause !” 

It was not far to seek, though difficult to understand. 
Of all men in that countryside, gay, big-hearted George 
Cromarty had most friends and fewest enemies. He took 
life lightly, merrily, with a good word for the virtues of 
others and silence for their vices; yet there before them, 
unmistakably plain, was the trap that had been set for 
his life. A pit had been dug across the whole width of 
the road, shallow, indeed, but sufficiently deep to throw 
any horse passing over it. Its top had been screened with 
interlacing twigs, over which had been scattered soil and 
dust enough to hide them. One who rode with his eyes 
on the ground, as Antonio used, might easily, perhaps, 
have discovered the fiendish work; but he who rode with 
head upraised and his gaze on the distance would ride 
to his ruin as Marty had done. To make the treachery 
more secure, some sprays of wild grapes had been tightly 
stretched beneath the whole, and this showed a delibera- 
tion of evil that turned Ephraim sick, but the other man 
furious. 

“Who did that will pay the price! I swear it!” he 
cried. 

“It surely was meant for a Sobrante man, for they’re 


116 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


few besides who ride this way/' answered- ‘Torty-niner/' 
thoughtfully. ^‘And, Atlantic! Here's the mail pouch! 
Maybe 'twas robbery, pure and simple. Was it a money 
day, for supplies or such?" 

'‘Reckon it was. The mistress herself locked and gave 
the bag to me, bidding me be careful. As if I was ever 
careless ; but there was one letter in it I heard about, that 
the little captain wrote to Ninian Sharp. Wrote herself, 
an invite to the Christmas doings. Try it." 

Examination proved that the bag had been tampered 
with, though the lock was a spring and now securely 
fastened; but a small leather flap, intended to cover the 
keyhole, had been torn from its fastenings and lay on the 
ground. The pouch itself had been flung slightly out of 
the way, under the bushes, as if the trespasser had sat- 
isfied himself with and concerning it and had no further 
use for it. 

"Well, there used to be three keys to this concern. 
One the mistress has; one the postmaster keeps at the 
office; and the other was Antonio’s, since he always was 
wanting to open and put something extra in the bag 
after Mrs. Trent had done with it. I never liked the look 
of that, and it’s my opinion that it’s the very key has 
unlocked this bag, if unlocked it’s been. Which is more’n 
likely." 

Cromarty’s head was again beginning to grow dizzy, 
and he sat again upon the rock to recover himself, mak- 
ing no answer to Ephraim’s words than the exclamation : 

"How am I going to get that bag to post in time?" 


CHAPTER XL 


THE PASSINd OF OLD CENTURY. 

Jessica and her escort, John Benton, rode swiftly up 
the canyon trail and over the brow of the mesa toward 
the shepherd’s cabin; but they had not proceeded far 
along the upland before a sense of the strangeness of 
things oppressed them both. 

John’s keen eye detected the neglect of the sheep, which 
were still huddled in the corral, though long past their 
hour for pasturage; while their bleating expressed hun- 
ger as well asMislike of their unusual imprisonment. But 
Jessica saw first the abject attitude of the collie, Keno, 
who came reluctantly to greet them with down-hanging 
head and tail and a reproachful upward glance of his 
brown eyes. 

“Why, you poor doggie! What’s happened you? You 
look as if you’d been beaten. Where’s your master, good 
Keno? Keno, where’s Pedro?” 

The Indian was nowhere visible, and as if he fully 
understood the question, the collie answered by a long, 
lugubrious whine. 

“Something’s wrong. That’s as plain as preachin’ !” 
cried John, and hurried to the little house, whose door 
stood open, but about which there was no sign of life. 

He had tossed his bridle to the captain, meaning that if 
aught were amiss within she should be detained for the 


118 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


present by holding the horses. However, she saw through 
this ruse, and, leaping from Buster, swiftly hobbled both 
animals and ran after the carpenter. 

Keno kept close at her heels, the very presentment of 
canine misery, and uttering at every few steps that dole- 
ful whine which was so unusual to him. But, arrived at 
the cabin, he left her and with one bound had reached 
the Indian’s side, where he still sat beside his window, 
his head against its casing and his blanket — Jessica’s gift 
— closely wrapped about him. He did not move when 
they entered, nor respond even by objection to the collie’s 
frantic blandishments, but John raised his hand for 
silence, as she stood sorrowfully gazing downward upon 
the face of death. 

Yes, it was that. He had more than rounded his cen- 
tury of years, he had lived uprightly, as the good padres 
had taught; he had bestowed upon those he loved the 
secret of great wealth, and he had gone to keep his 
precious Navidad in the home of eternal youth. 

Jessica comprehended the truth at once, and her eyes 
filled with the tears which, as yet, did not overflow; for 
as she gazed upon the sleeper’s face it filled her with 
amazement and something akin to delight; and at last 
she exclaimed : 

"‘Why, how young and glad he looks! He’s even 
nobler than he was when he rode away from me last 
night, and I’d never seen him so dignified and grand as he 
was then. It’s — it’s as if he had done with everything is 
hard, like worries, and evil, and loneliness, and — all.’’ 


THE PASSING OF OLD CENTURY. 


119 


“Ay, lassie; he has done with all — that you or I know 
aught about; and every inch a man he seems as he sits 
there in the majesty of death.” 

By then the child’s tears had begun to flow, and she 
caught up Pedro’s hand with an outburst of grief and 
love. 

“Poor, poor Pedro! To have been here all alone when 
it came ! What shall I do without him who was always 
so good, so good to me? Oh, I can’t have it so, John! 
I can’t, I can’t!” 

He was wise enough to attempt no consolation, know- 
ing well how small a part of her life the venerable Indian 
had been and how easily youth accustoms itself to such 
a loss. But, after he had allowed her to sob for a time, 
he gently touched her shoulder, and said: 

“Come. Pedro has finished his work and has passed 
it on to us. Those poor sheep must be cared for, and 
somebody must ride home at once; or, rather, should 
ride at once to Marion to make the necessary arrange- 
ments. I wish ” And he paused in perplexity, re- 

garding her as if in doubt what was best to be done. 

They left the cottage with that quiet tread which 
seems natural in the presence of those whom no sound 
can trouble, and, hand in hand, walked sadly to the fold, 
where the penned sheep greeted them with eager cries 
and restless movements. 

“Pedro used to say they talked and he knew what they 
said. I begin to believe he did, for, listen! This sound 


120 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


isn’t like that other first one, which told us they were 
hungry. This says : T’m glad you’ve come !’ Doesn’t 
it?” 

'‘So it sounds to me, lassie ; and I, too, am glad we 
came. It’s queer, though, how set you were on it, even 
against the mistress’ wish that you should wait.” 

“Yes, John, I had to come. I just had to. And this 
is what I think : When we’ve taken care of the sheep, 
we’ll lay Pedro on his bed and lock the door. Keno will 
keep guard, if we tell him; though whoever comes here, 
anyway? Then you must ride to Marion to see about — 
about” — ^liere, for a moment, grief interrupted her again, 
but she suppressed her tears as soon as possible and went 
on quite calmly — “about what always has to be at such 
a time. I remember — I remember it all when my father 

No, no, John, I’m not going to cry again. I won’t 

make bad worse, never, if I can help it. But this I say: 
You ride to Marion and send word to the mission so 
that a priest may come; and do all the rest. I will ride 
home and the boys will come up and fetch him to So- 
brante. It must be in the little old chapel that we never 
use, because my father said he would not put to a com- 
mon service a room that had once been given to God. 
Pedro always loved it. It was there he used to say his 
'devotions’ and there he must lie — in state — isn’t that 
what they call it when great folks die ? Pedro was great. 
He had lived so very long and he had always been so de- 
vout. What do you say?” 

“What do I say, little captain, but that you’ve a long 


THE PASSING OF OLD CENTURY. 


121 


head on your young shoulders, and I’m sorry this load 
of grief had to rest on it so early. More than that; I 
undertook to be your guardeen to-day, and I’ve no notion 
of shirking the job — even now. I passed my word to the 
‘admiral’ that I’d fetch you home safe, and so I will. It 
won’t take much longer and it’s right. Home first, and 
Marion afterward.” 

“Well, maybe, that is best; and surely it is pleasantest. 
I didn’t want to be selfish, but I’d rather you stayed with 
me. Are you ready? Shall we leave him just as he is?” 

“Just so. We’ll close the window and the door, and 
then — home.” 

But it was with widely different feelings that they 
cantered down the canyon from those with which they 
had ridden up it, and when she saw them returning so 
soon and so swiftly, Mrs. Trent went out to meet them, 
saying nothing, indeed, yet asking the question with her 
eyes : 

“What trouble now?” 

Then John told their story speedily and suggested that 
some of the men ride to the mesa and attend to what was 
needful. Also, repeated Jessica’s opinion about the 
chapel, with which the lady instantly agreed ; then, clasp- 
ing her daughter’s hand very close, returned with her 
to the porch and began to fold away her sewing. 

But both Aunt Sally, when she came and heard the 
news, and the little girl asked: 

“Why do you put it away, mother, dear? If Pedro is 


122 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


happy now, as we believe, why shouldn’t we be, too ? All 
the rest must have their holiday, and I think — I think he’d 
like to have me look nice. He always did.” 

“Jessie is right, Gabrieli’. Things do happen terrible 
upsettin’ lately, seems to me; but by the time you and 
me get to be a hunderd odd, I reckon we shan’t care a 
mite whether folks wear red and white dresses or horrid 
humbly ones. I’m goin’ on just the same as ever, for 
that’s the only way I’ll ever keep my common senses in 
this spooky place. I knew when they two started off, 
left hoof foremost, they was ridin’ to trouble; and this 
morning my hen chicken crowed to beat any rooster I 
ever heard, and that’s a sure sign of death.” 

“Aunt Sally, don’t!” protested Mrs. Trent, glancing 
anxiously at her daughter’s face. But she need not have 
feared; for the child smiled back upon her, serene and 
happy, despite the traces of tears that still marked her 
bright eyes. 

“It’s all right, mother, dear; and I’m thinking how 
glad Pedro must be now, to have found all those he’d so 
long outlived. He just went to sleep, you see, alone, and 
waked up with them around him. I think it was beauti- 
ful — beautiful; and his last deed was to find me and to 
tell you how you could grow rich if you want to. Where 
are the little boys, I wonder?” 

They presently appeared, in wild excitement, having 
been at the men’s quarters when John rode thither to im- 
part his news and directions; yet in this excitement was 
not a vestige of grief. They seemed to feel relieved of 


THE PASSING OF OLD CENTURY. 


123 


some dread, and Ned more than once punched Luis, 
whispering shrilly enough for all to hear: 

‘‘We can do it now, and not get caught! Yes, siree! 
We can do it now ! Don’t you tell I” 

And Luis responded by an ecstatic hug and the cus- 
tomary echo: 

“Do it now; don’t you tell! Yes, siree!” 

John Benton had nearly covered the distance to Mar- 
ion, when he perceived two men slowly advancing toward 
him along the level road. For a moment, engrossed by 
thoughts of recent happenings, he paid slight attention 
to the fact, though idly wondering what strangers might 
be having business, and on foot, with Sobrante, at which 
point the road ended. But, as he drew nearer to them, 
something familiar in the bearing of the taller man, and 
startling in the appearance of the other, caused him to 
shield his eyes from the sunshine and peer critically into 
the distance. Then he slapped his thigh so excitedly that 
his horse suddenly stopped, reared and nearly unseated 
him. 

“Oh, you idiot! Can’t a feller slap himself without 
your takin’ it to heart? If I ain’t a blind man, and maybe 
I am, that’s old ‘Forty-niner’ hoofing himself home, and 
Whew! That’s Marty, limpin’ and leanin’ along- 
side. Well, I ’low! More trouble and plenty of it. 
Seems if all creation was just a-happenin’ our, way, 
blamed if it don’t. Giddap there, Moses !” 

In a few minutes he had reached the pedestrians and 
saluted them with unfeigned astonishment, and Ephraim 


124 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


v/ith great friendliness of expression, but also the ques- 
tion : 

'‘What fresh calamities you two fetchin’, now?” 

They told him, as briefly as possible, and he found his 
own perplexity increased as he demanded : 

“What in creation is to be done? Here’s Pedro gone 
and died in the most unhandy place and time; and here 
be you two, with not a decent leg between you, twenty 
miles from home, and one horse for the three of us!” 

At the word “horse” poor Marty winced, as from a 
personal blow, while both he and Ephraim were greatly 
amazed at the news of the shepherd’s death. They began 
to feel, as John had said, that “nothing save disaster was 
meant for Sobrante folks;” yet, after a moment, “Forty- 
niner” perceived another side of the matter, and expressed 
himself thus: 

“What’s got into the pack of us? Seems if we’d lost 
our gumption. After all, couldn’t anything have hap- 
pened likelier, so far forth as I see. John Benton, you 
light off Moses and help this man into ypur saddle. 
He’ll ride home and I’ll walk alongside, whilst you tramp 
on to Marion. There’s a mare there, named Jean. She 
was offered to me, but I was in a hurry and didn’t ac- 
cept. However, the offer is due to hold good for any of 
our folks. Light, I tell you. Marty’s about played out.” 

Indeed, the respite came none too soon. The worst 
injury the gardener had sustained was, apparently, of the 
head, and a terrible dizziness rendered his progress on 
foot almost impossible. He would not have been able to 


THE PASSING OF OLD CENTURY. 


125 


accomplish this much of the journey, save for the con- 
tinual help of Ephraim, who was himself burdened with 
the heavy pack and unwilling to relinquish it. 

John stepped down and swung his fellow ranchman up 
to Moses’ back; then placed the bundle before the rider, 
turned the animal’s head toward Sobrante, and chir- 
ruped : 

'‘Giddap! Home’s the word!” 

Moses needed no second urging, but was off at a gal- 
lop, leaving the others to discuss the situation a bit 
further, and Ephraim to follow at his leisure. 

There was little more to be said, however, and soon 
each was pursuing diverging routes and each at his swift- 
est pace. 

At Marion, John had the mail pouch unlocked and ex- 
amined, and was satisfied that some letters had been tam- 
pered with. These contained orders for house supplies 
and had been accompanied by checks, as was evident 
from the wording of the orders. The checks had been 
removed, and this fact proved to the carpenter that the 
hand of Antonio Bernal was in the matter, because the 
late manager might indorse them without arousing the 
bank’s suspicion, as nobody else could. 

Yet there was one thing he did not mention, even to 
the postmaster; and that was the package which Jes- 
sica’s letter to Ninian Sharp had spoken of. This had 
disappeared entirely. The fact troubled him more than 
the loss of the checks, for he could stop the payment of 
these, but whether the little captain had sent the whole 


126 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


of their only specimen of the copper to her city friend or 
not was a serious question. 

However, he did what he could; and almost for the 
first time in his life used the telegraph as well as the 
post. To pay for his long and rather ambigious mes- 
sages he borrowed money of the mystified Aleck Mc- 
Leod; and the local operator found himself busier than 
he had ever been before since the establishment of the 
office. 

The other sad business that had brought him to the 
town was also transacted; and by the time all was ar- 
ranged John was very glad to avail himself of Jean’s 
services, slow though she was. Upon her sedate back 
he arrived at Sobrante, just as the sun was setting, and 
found that the household had temporarily forgotten their 
grief for Pedro in their rejoicing over Ephraim. 

“It’s an up and a down in this world,” quoth Aunt 
Sally, spreading and admiring the brilliant bits of calico 
which “Forty-niner” had given her. “Life ain’t all cat- 
nip, no way you stew it. Them that laugh in the morn- 
ing gen’ally cry before night, and vicy-versy. But, 
Gabriella, do, for goodness’ sake, just fetch out that queer 
kind of stick that old Indian made a sort of graven image 
of and show it to Mr. Ma’sh. It’s a curiosity, being so 
old, if it ain’t no more. Worth cherishin’, anyhow, ’count 
of him that give it. I always did admire keepsakes of 
the departed.” 

Mrs. Trent smiled, though sadly, and Jessica asked; 

“May I get it, mother?” 


THE PASSING OF OLD CENTURY. 


127 


“Surely. For safety I put it on the top of the tallest 
bookcase, behind the files of newspapers. You’ll likely 
have to take the little library ladder to reach it; and 
when you’ve shown it, put it back in exactly the same 
spot. It’s doubly valuable now, and could not be re- 
placed.” 

The little captain had scarcely once relinquished the 
hand of her beloved sharpshooter, since he appeared be- 
fore them all, and now led him, as if he were another 
happy playmate, to the designated place. But when she 
had reached it, mounted the ladder and carefully felt all 
over the top of the case, even moving the files in order 
to examine it the better, she could not find the metal- 
pointed staff. 

Standing on the floor beneath, Ephraim watched her 
face growing sober and disappointed, as she exclaimed: 

“It’s gone! It’s completely gone!” 

“It has, dearie? Well, maybe your mother forgot and 
put it somewhere else. The likeliest thing in the world 
to happen, with her mind so upset as it has been. We’ll 
go back and ask her. Don’t fret. Probably it wasn’t of 
much account, anyway.” 

“Oh! but, dear Ephraim, it was! It could point the 
way to our big fortune that’s to be dug out of the 
ground !” 

“What? What is that you say, child? Nonsense. 
We don’t live in the days of witchcraft, and that’s what 
such a performance would mean.” 


128 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


Yet when they had returned to Mrs. Trent and related 
their misadventure he was startled by hearing that sen- 
sible woman tragically exclaim, in contradiction to his 
own assertion: 

“Lost! Then Sobrante is certainly bewitched!” 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE REBELLION OF THE LADS. 

“Thank my stars, I haven't lost my faculty of doing 
two things to once, nor seein’ a dozen !” cried Aunt Sally, 
as if in response to Mrs. Trent’s exclamation. Then she 
rose so hastily that her beloved “pieces” fell on the floor 
and her spectacles slid from the end of her nose, their 
habitual resting place. “There never was witches on this 
ranch before, and I reckon I can deal with a few of them 
that’s here now. Edward Trent, Luis Garcia! Where 
you goin’ at? Pley? Hear me? Come right straight 
back to me this minute, if you know what’s good for 
yourselves I” 

All were surprised by this outburst and awaited its re- 
sult with curiosity. 

The two little boys had been suspiciously quiet on the 
farther end of that long porch where the household prac- 
tically lived. Mrs. Trent had glanced their way, occa- 
sionally, but supposed them to be engrossed by the patent 
whistle and top which had been found in Ephraim’s 
pack, neatly marked with their respective nam^es. Yet 
one could not eat tops nor whistles, and their elbows had 
been seen, from the rear, to move in a suggestive manner. 

‘They’re eatin’ somethin’ all this time. I wonder 
what!” had been Mrs. Benton’s private reflection. But 
when Jessica came back with her report of the lost wand, 


130 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


the elbow action had suddenly ceased; and, after what 
appeared to be a brief whispered consultation, they had 
slunk away down the path, Ned trying to help Luis hide 
something within his blouse, though not, apparently, suc- 
ceeding. 

At the sound of Aunt Sally’s voice, indeed, they 
dropped the box they had been secreting and burst into 
a paroxysm of giggling, as was their customary receipt 
of her chiding. The giggle was always destined to end 
in tears, but this never prevented its recurrence. 

“Neddy Trent! If that bad little Garcia boy is doing 
wrong, it’s no need you should be naughty, too. Come 
back here and show poor auntie what you’ve got in your 
blouses.” 

Wheedling had no more effect than scolding, for with 
one hug of each other’s necks, the children scampered 
onward, leaving their spoils behind them. 

Then Jessica followed to see what this might be, and 
exclaimed, in some surprise: 

“Candy! Where did it come frorn?” 

Now, it happened that such sweets, except of home- 
made manufacture and on rare occasions, were forbidden 
the lads, because they were always made ill by them. 
That is, Luis suffered and Ned was not allowed anything 
his playmate could not share. All the ranchmen knew 
Mrs. Trent’s wishes on the subject and heretofore none 
had ever gone against them. Who had done it now? 

Of course, suspicion instantly pointed to “Forty- 
niner,” who indignantly denied that he had brought, or 


THE REBELLION OF THE LADS. 


131 


even thought of bringing, anything home which his be- 
loved mistress did not wish there. 

‘‘Doesn’t anybody trust me any more about anything?” 
he concluded, wistfully. 

The accusation had come from Mrs. Benton, but Ga- 
briella hastened to soothe the sharpshooter, saying: 

“We’re making mountains out of mole hills, I fear. 
There, Aunt Sally, never mind. They have left so much 
behind them on the path that they can hardly have eaten 
enough to harm them, anyway. Let them go, please.” 

But the good woman would not drop the subject. Her 
sharp eyes had not been given her for nothing, and her 
son always asserted that if his mother had been a man she 
would have made a first-class detective. Panting and 
puffing in her haste and curiosity, she hurried to the 
spilled confections and carefully picked them up; then 
returned to the porch, significantly holding forth, upon 
her palm, a specimen of what she had discovered. 

“Needn’t tell me I didn’t smell peppymint! Them’s 
them peppymint rounds with chocolate outsides that I 
never seen nobody eat, on this ranch, ’cept Antonio Ber- 
nal. They ain’t kept in the store to Marion, and the 
storekeeper used to send for ’em to Los Angeles, ’spe- 
cially for his one customer. I know, Antonio offered me 
some, time and again, on my other visits, but I always 
thanked him polite and said no. I never did lay out to 
eat a snake’s victuals, and that’s what his’n was.” 

“Oh, what a woman you are. Aunt Sally!” laughed 
Ephraim. 


132 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


‘Thank you. I hope I be; enough of one, anyhow, to 
see through a millstone, when there’s a hole in it. But 
you’ve come back so peart and sassy, sharpshooter, I 
reckon I best go steep you a fresh dose of picra. After 
I’ve learnt all them tackers can tell.” 

“Please, don’t be stern with them. Aunt Sally,” pro- 
tested the mother. “Whatever they’ve done is but nat- 
ural. It would be too much to expect them to refuse 
such a treat if it were offered them, and, maybe, John 
brought it to them.” 

“John? My boy, John? After the raisin’ he had! 
Well, you’re on the wrong track there and I’m on the 
right one. Antonio Bernal, or some feller sneak of his, 
has been here at Sobrante, and you needn’t touch to tell 
me he hasn’t. Wait; I’ll find out now!” she ended, in 
triumph, and again the others were obliged to laugh, 
though Mrs. Trent’s brief mirth closed with a sigh, which: 
Jessica heard and understood. 

“Oh! don’t you fear, mother, dear. Aunt Sally 
wouldn’t hurt either of them, really; and, indeed, I don’t 
know who would keep them in order if she didn’t try. 
What mischief one can’t think of the other does, and I’ll 
run after her and see the thing out. Who knows but that 
they can tell us something about the missing staff?” 

The runaways had m*ade a detour by way of the 
kitchen, and adjoining the kitchen was the “cold closet,” 
which was the refuge they sought, and where already 
were stored some of the Christmas goodies. This closet 
had but one door and a securely shuttered window, and 


THE REBELLION OP THE LADS. 133 

once the door was gained by the pursuer she would have 
the small miscreants in a trap. This she had seen and 
this it was which had given her that triumphant ex- 
pression. 

The captain also gained the pantry door just after it 
had closed behind Mrs. Benton and her prisoners, and 
to her repeated request to be admitted, received the enig- 
matical answer: 

“Time enough when Fve pumped these little cisterns 
dry.’^ 

“Are the children in there with you?’^ 

“Certain.” 

“You won’t hurt them, will you? Please don’t pun- 
ish them to-day. I can’t bear it.” 

To which the grim jailer responded : 

“You go along back to ‘Forty-niner,’ Jessie darlin’, and 
be happy. We’re all mighty comfortable in here and lots 
of good victuals, if so be we get hungry. Plenty to drink, 
too, for I just brought in a crock of fresh water to cool 
my eggs in. I’ve got my knittin’ work and am as happy 
as an oyster. Go back, for I ain’t ready to talk yet. 
When I am I’ll come out and bring these naughty chil- 
dren with me.” 

So Jessica returned to her old friend’s side; and in 
listening to his talk about the hospital and the friends she 
had made there for herself, as well as about Mr. Ninian 
Sharp and the lawyer, Morris Hale, the evening quickly 
passed and bedtime came. 


134 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


When the ranch mistress rose to say good-night, she 
went to the still closed door of the closet, and asked : 

Aren’t you coming out now. Aunt Sally?” 

The old lady opened the door and pointed complacently 
to a distant corner of the roomy apartment where, upon a 
pile of soft blankets that had been stored within, lay the 
two little boys, sound asleep and the picture of innocent 
comfort. 

“There, Gabriella, you see they’re all right. I wouldn’t 
hurt a hair of their bonny heads, not for another ranch 
as fine as this one. But here them and me stay till I 
worm the truth out of ’em about that candy and that 
magic stafif. Where that candy come from that there 
staff has gone. You hear me and believe me. Oh, I 
know what I know ! Good-night. Don’t you worry. 
Me and them is all right, as I said, and my head’s level. 
I went to sleep a-watchin’ t’other time, but I shan’t this. 
There’s more in my mind than nonsense. This chair is 
as comfortable as a lounge. I slipped out and got it from 
the settin’-room when you all was talkin’ so lively, just 
now, and we’re fixed. I may come out before daylight 
and I may stay till doomsday; but come I shan’t a single 
step, not to please even you for whom I’d do and dare a 
good deal, and don’t you doubt it, but when my mind 
is sot it’s sot, and sot it is this minute, and don’t you dast 
to let on to John Benton, or that sassy boy’d plague the 
very life out of me, and you go right along to your own 
bed and take Jessie with you, and ” 

But Mrs. Trent stayed to hear no more. When Aunt 


THE REBELLION OF THE LADS. 


135 


Sally got started on such a harangue as this, exhaustion 
of breath was her only limit. The lady did not anticipate 
more than an hour’s further imprisonment of the chil- 
dren, if so long, and was sure that they would be even 
tenderly cared for, no matter what their misdemeanors, if 
she did not herself interfere. Yet daylight came and 
found the odd trio still behind that closed door, and it 
opened only at breakfast time; when, leading two very 
penitent-looking small boys and herself wearing the air 
of a Rornan conqueror, Mrs. Benton emerged from her 
seclusion upon an expectant household. 

^‘Well, Aunt Sally, have you ‘wormed’ them, as you 
promised ? Poor little tackers ! they’ve lost their pride 
and spirit, and I love them. Come to sister, darlings, 
and get your morning hugs!” cried Jessica, as they ap- 
peared. 

Ephraim, close at hand, winked at them solemnly and 
held up behind Mrs. Benton’s back two most alluring 
marbles. But they did not wink in response, nor give 
more than a furtive smile, as they reluctantly dragged 
along under their guardian’s forcible guidance. Her 
route was direct to the watering trough where, without 
ado, she promptly stripped, bathed and rubbed dry, each 
shivering little figure. Then she reclothed and led them 
back to the kitchen, placing them in high chairs beside 
the big deal table, while she proceeded to cook their oat- 
meal and serve it to them, with a bad-as-you-are-you- 
shan’t-starve sort of air which would have amused Jes- 
sica, had she not so heartily pitied her playmates. 


136 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


After a time she could endure the sight no longer, but 
sped to Ned’s chair and clasped him fondly in her arms. 

“What is the matter, brotherkin? Tell sister, do. Is 
it nothing but that miserable candy? What else have 
you done to make kind auntie so angry with you ?” 

Ned’s bosom heaved and a mighty sob burst forth. But 
he instantly repressed this sign of weakness, though, un- 
fortunately, not soon enough to prevent Luis from echo- 
ing it with redoubled intensity. 

Now nothing so quickly restores the self-possession, 
even of grown-ups, as the sight of another’s collapse; 
and no sooner had Luis given vent to his emotion than 
Ned’s spirit returned to him. Throwing back his pretty 
head, with an air of unconquerable resolution, he reached 
forth and pounded his mate smartly on the back. 

“You, Luis Garcia, what you crying for? Isn’t none 
of your old staffs, anyway.” 

“Ain’t my old staffs, ain’t,” sobbed the “echo,” for 
such he was often nicknamed. 

“Then you needn’t cry, you needn’t. I ain’t crying, I 
ain’t. Hate old Aunt Sally. Hate ’Tonio. Hate Ferd. 
Hate everybody. Give me my breakfast, old Aunt Sally 
Benton !” 

“Hate Bentons!” agreed Luis, and flung his arms 
about his little tyrant’s throat till he choked from out- 
ward expression whatever more might have issued thence. 

“Ned ! Why, Ned I I never, never knew you so 
naughty ! Do tell me ; what has happened ?” 

Mrs. Benton glared at the culprit over her down- 


THE REBELLION OP THE LADS. 


137 


dropped spectacles in a truly formidable manner, but 
the result was only a settled stubbornness which nothing 
moved. 

Seeing that pleading was hopeless, at present, and that 
Ned was in one of his dogged fits, Jessica quietly walked 
away and began to help in the preparation of the elder 
people’s meal, as her mother liked to have her do. 

Meanwhile, Aunt Sally waited upon the children, piling 
their saucers with the tasty porridge, moistened with Blan- 
dina’s yellow cream and plentifully sprinkled with sugar. 
They were healthy and unused to grief, and the palatable 
food soon restored their good humor. They seemed to 
forgive their venerable tormentor and fell to their accus- 
tomed scrimmage with the utmost enjoyment ; and this 
was pleasanter for all concerned. However, even when 
they had eaten all they could and were ready for out- 
doors and their morning fun, their plans were nipped in 
the bud. Aunt Sally had a spare hand for each of them 
and conducted them firmly to the dining room and a place 
upon its lounge, while the family took their own food in 
what comfort they could. 

This was not so great. Mrs. Trent’s eyes would wan- 
der to the unhappy pair — for they were once more gloomy 
and unsubdued — and old Ephraim cast many glances 
thither, entreating by silent signals that they should 
repent of whatever sin they had committed and be re- 
stored to favor. 

The meal past the family rose and, from her pocket, 
Mrs. Benton produced two long strips of cloth, one of 


138 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


which she fastened about each child’s wrist, leaving its 
other end to tie to her own apron belt. 

Then she turned to the mother, whose tears were be- 
ginning to fall, and said, severely: 

“Gabriella, if I .didn’t love you as well as I love myself 
and better. I’d let these children go and no more said. 
But they’ve done that no punishin’ won’t reach, though 
maybe they’ll give in after a spell. I shan’t hurt ’em nor 
touch to; but I shall keep ’em tied to me till they tell me 
what I’m bound to know. So that’s all. You’ve got 
enough on your hands, with this funeral business and 
all that’ll come, and however we’re goin’ to feed another 
lot of visitors so soon after them others, I declare I don’t 
see. And me with these tackers tied to my apron strings, 
the way they be!” 

Mrs. Trent rose and left the room and Jessica slowly 
followed. Neither of them could quite understand Aunt 
Sally’s present behavior, nor why she should wish to 
bother herself with two such hindrances to the labor 
which must be accomplished. 

But Ephraim lingered. He simply could not endure 
the sight of the little ones’ unhappiness, and quietly slip- 
ping a knife from his pocket he coolly cut their leading 
strings, caught them up in his strong arms and limped 
away before their captor had discovered her loss. 

But he put his head back inside the doorway to call 
out, reassuringly: 

^^Begging pardon, Mrs. Benton, I’ll ‘spell’ you on the 
‘worming out’ business and promise they shan’t leave my 


THE REBELLION OF THE LADS. 


139 


care till I hand ’em back to you thoroughly ‘pumped.’ 
Come along, laddies. I’ve a mind to visit every spot on 
this blessed ranch and — upon one condition — I’ve a mind 
to take you with me. Want to hear?” 

“Yes. What is it?” demanded Ned, already very 
happy at the exchange of jailers. 

“Only that you must explain what all this row and 
rumpus is about with Aunt Sally.” 

Standing at the top of the steps, with one foot out- 
stretched, old “Forty-niner” paused and steadily re- 
garded the small face above his shoulder. 

Ned returned the gaze with equal steadfastness, as if 
he were pondering in his troubled mind the best course 
to pursue. Then, because he might think more clearly so, 
he lifted his serious gaze to the distance; and, at once, 
there burst from his quivering lips a cry of fear : 

“Oh, I see him ! I see him ! He’s coming, like he said 
— ^to kill me — to kill me ! I dassent — I dassent 1” 


CHAPTER XIII. 
ned's story. 

‘'Eels couldn’t have done that slicker!” commented 
Ephraim, in surprise. For, behold! his arms were empty 
and the flash of twinkling legs along the garden path 
pointed whither his charges had fled. “Here they were 
and here they aren’t, and whatever scared them that way 
is more than I can see.” 

Indeed, though he shaded his eyes with his hand and 
made a prolonged examination of the outlook, nothing 
different from ordinary was visible; and, after a mo- 
ment’s reflection, he sought Aunt Sally and reported : 

“Well, Mrs. Benton, I ’low I’m doomed to that dose 
of picra, for I — I You see ” 

“Ephraim Ma’sh, where’s them children?” 

“That’s just exactly what I’d like to know myself, 
neighbor.” 

“Huh ! You needn’t go ‘neighborin’ ’ me, if that’s all 
you’re worth. Tryin’ fool capers like a boy, ain’t you? 
Think it was terr’ble clever to cut strings that I’d took 
the trouble to tie and then settin’ them youngsters free. 
Well, all I have to say is that you’ve done more harm 
than you can undo in a hurry, and that’s the true word,” 
retorted the indignant matron, beating a bowlful of eggs 
as she would have enjoyed beating him just then. 


NED'S STORY, 


141 


Ephraim crossed the kitchen and laid one hand on her 
shoulder, saying: 

*‘Come, Sally, let's quit chasing about the bush. There’s 
something more in this nonsense than appears, and if 
you’re a true and loyal friend to this family I’m another 
as good. Two heads are better than one, you know ” 

''Even if one belongs to a silly old feller like you? 
H’m, Ephraim, you’re right! There is somethin’ more’n 
shows outside. That candy was a bait, a trap, a lure, a — 
anything you choose; and I do hope the little fellers are 
safer’n I fear they be. If I catch ’em again, for their 

good My suz! Here they’re cornin’ back of their 

own free will and wonders ain’t ceased !” 

Indeed, as swiftly as they had scampered away, the 
lads were returning and burst into the kitchen, crying 
with what little breath they had left : 

"Aunt Sally, lock me up ! Lock us up tight I Quick — 
quick! I seen him! He’ll do it! My mother says An- 
tonio always does do things, he does! Quick, quick!” 

"Lock up, quick!” 

Ned and the echo swung round behind the matron’s 
capacious person and rolled themselves in the folds of 
her full skirt, which performance hid them from the view 
of anyone outside and as effectually interfered with her 
movements. 

But she had now caught something of their excitement, 
and their appeal to her protection had promptly banished 
her last trace of anger against them, 

"So I will, lambies, so I will. You just keep on a 


142 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


steppin’ backwards and I’ll do it, too, and first we know 
we'll get to that nice pantry where we stayed last night. 
Fve got the key to that, even if 'tis rusty from not bein’ 
often used, and I’ll defy anybody to get it away from 
me.” 

Still beating her eggs as if nothing uncommon were 
happening, the housewife retreated toward the door in 
question, and slipping one hand behind her opened it 
without turning her head. She was instantly relieved 
of the drag upon her skirts, and quietly shut the door 
again upon her self-imprisoned charges. Then she drew 
a long breath, and exclaimed : 

“Well, sharpshooter, what do you think of that?” 

“Looks as if you couldn’t have been so very hard on 
them, else they’d never come back.” 

‘T ain’t, a-flatterin’ myself. That was a ‘Hobson’s 
choice.’ But ” 

“But they must have been badly frightened to have 
done it.” 

“Yes, Ephraim, they are, and I am. I’m so stirred 
up I don’t know whether I’ve beat these eggs all one 
way, like I ought, or forty-’leven different ones, like I 
ought not. I’m flustered. I’m completely flustered, and 
that ain’t often my case.” 

“Picra!” sympathetically suggested the old man. 

Aunt Sally’s eyes snapped, and she smiled grimly, as 
she retorted: 

“Picra’s good for them ’at need it. That’s you, not 
me. It ain’t a medicine for in’ards so much as ’tis for 


NED’S STORY. 


143 


out’ards. I mean, it’s better for the body than ’tis for 
the mind, and it’s my mind that’s ailin’ me! Besides, 
doctors never take their own doses.” 

“You know it yourself ! I thought your mind was fail- 
ing you, but ” 

“No such thing. I said, or I meant to say, I was trou- 
bled in it. That’s all; and if you’re a mite of a man 
you’ll try and help me unravel this tangle and quit foolin’. 
Just step into that closet with me and maybe the tackers’ll 
tell you themselves. I’d rather you heard it first hand, 
anyway.” 

Wun Lung, sifting flour in one part of the kitchen, and 
Pasqual scrubbing a kneading board at the sink, both 
paused and eyed the strange proceedings with curiosity 
if not displeasure; for not only had the children been be- 
stowed within the “cold closet,” but Aunt Sally and Eph- 
raim had, also, followed and locked themselves out of 
sight and hearing. 

The pantry was absolutely dark, until Mrs. Benton 
found a candle and lighted it; then she pointed to the 
chair she had occupied during the night, mutely inviting 
“Forty-niner” to be seated. He declined the proffered 
courtesy, so she sat down herself, and it amused him that 
she had not once stopped that monotonous whisking of 
the eggs, though by this time the dish was heaped with 
their frothy substance. 

“The cake you make of them should be light enough,” 
he remarked, with a smile. 

“You’re right. There’s such a thing as overheatin’ — 


144 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


everything. Well, laddies, we’re all back in here to- 
gether again, and auntie wants you to tell Mr. Ma’sh 
where you got that candy ; who give it to you ; what for ; 
where you saw that sneaky snake, Antonio Bernal; what 
you’ve done with the staff wand; and all the rest of it? 
‘Forty-niner’ is a man and a gentleman ” 

Here the sharpshooter bowed profoundly, acknowl- 
edging the compliment with a humorous expression; but 
the matron continued as if she had not observed him : 

“You see, I know all about it, even if you wouldn’t tell. 
I’m one has eyes on the back of my head and on its top, 
too, I tell you, so you needn’t try to think I don’t see 
what’s going on, for I do.” 

The faces of her small listeners showed utter amaze- 
ment; then with one of his flashlike movements Ned 
sprang to the back of her chair and passed his hand 
rapidly all over her gray curls. 

“Where are they. Aunt Sally? I can’t find ’em. I 
never saw ’em in all my life, and do — do, please, show 
them to me !” he implored. 

Luis scrambled up the other side, and echoed: 

“Never show ’em in m’life!” 

“That’s all right. I don’t keep ’em in exhibition, but 
they’re there all the same.” 

“Sally Benton!” expostulated Ephraim. “Don’t tell 
them wrong stories.” 

“But it isn’t a wrong story; it’s a right one. If they’re 
not real, actual eyes, there’s something in my head takes 
their place. Might as well say ‘eyes’ as ‘brains,’ I judge. 


NED’S STORY. 


145 


But, be you going to answer, Edward Trent? Eve got a 
prime lot of cookin’ to do again, and no time to waste. 
’Cause if you ain’t I’ll just take Mr. Ma’sh with me and 
lock you shavers in here alone, where you’ll be safe, but 
sort of homesick. I shan’t leave no candle burnin’, for 
you to set the house afire with. So you best tell, right 
away, and then be let out to have a good time.” 

Luis began to whisper, and beg: 

“Tell her, Ned. Tell her. I hate the dark — I do, I 
do!” 

Ned hesitated but a moment longer. He loved his play- 
mate as his own soul, and it altered nothing of this 
childish David-and- Jonathan friendship that it was as 
full of fight as of afifection. Patting Luis’ shoulder, he 
cried : 

“Course I’ll tell, though if she knows it all a’ready ” 

“But I don’t know it, Ned. She wants you to tell me. 
I’m one of us, you see — just we four,” interposed the 
sharpshooter, hastily. 

“Well — well — well, ’tisn’t nothing, anyhow. Only I 
saw — I — saw ” 

Here the child paused and peered cautiously about. 

Mr. Marsh promptly sat down upon the boards and 
motioned the lads to come to him, and when they had 
done so, closed his arms around them, with a comfort- 
ing pressure, saying: 

“There now ! We’re as snug as bugs in a rug, and no- 
body in the wide world dare harm you. Hurry up and 


146 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


talk fast, or you and I will never get a taste of that fine 
poundcake Aunt Sally wants to make.” 

Another moment of hesitation, and then came Ned’s 
triumphant statement: 

’Twasn’t no ghost, anyhow.” 

*‘Of course it wasn’t,” answered “Forty-niner,” 
promptly agreeing, but considerably puzzled. He had 
not, as yet, heard from any of the others about the 
“vision” which Mrs. Benton had seen beside the window. 

“ ’Twasn’t nobody but ’Tonio himself.” 

“That’s exactly what I thought,” he again agreed, and 
encouragingly patted the boy’s hand. 

“And he come- — and he come — and he gave us one — 
two boxes of that nice, nice candy; and all we gave him 
was Pedro’s old stick !” 

Aunt Sally’s egg beater fell to the floor unheeded, and 
this time she really put her spectacles in their proper 
place and stared through them at the narrator. 

Ned warmed to his task and Luis cuddled beside him, 
complacently adding his affirmative “Yep,” at fitting in- 
tervals. 

“And so he said it wasn’t nothin’. And so — and so — 
I fell offen the bookcase and made a noise ; and my 
mother didn’t hear it ’cause she was asleep. Me and 
Luis was asleep, wasn’t we, Luis?” 

“Yep. Sleep.” 

“And he waked us up through the window- ” 

“Waked froo winder, yep.” 


NED'S STORY. 


147 


“And said: 'Go get that pointed stick, Ned Trent, and 
ril give you a dollar. Didn't he?" 

“Gimme dollar. Didn’t gimme dollar. What’s a dol- 
lar?" asked the echo. 

Ned went on, unheeding: 

“And I said no. ’T wasn’t my stick; ’twas my moth- 
er’s." 

“Oh! Neddy, Neddy! if you’d only stuck to that!" 
groaned Mrs. Benton, wiping her face with her apron. 

But being now fairly launched upon his narrative, and 
also feeling wholly secure within the shelter of “Forty- 
niner’s" arms, Ned paused no more till he had com- 
pleted it: 

“And then he gave us the candy, ’cause I didn’t want 
dollars. You can’t eat dollars, can you? And the candy 
was like the kind my mother never gives, and just for 
an old stick was older than Pedro. Huh! And then he 
— he — he made me put my hand on the top of my 
head ’’ 

“Hands on tops of heads!" cried the echo, dramatic- 
ally. 

“And swore a swore I’d never, never, honest Injun, 
tell a single tell, else he’d — he’d kill me! Kill me right 
straight down dead ! And now I have and he will, and I 
forgot and you made me ! I hate you, I hate you ! And 
won’t you feel bad when I’m all deaded and you done it, 
’stead of him — and — and ’’ 

The sense of security had fled instantly, and com- 


148 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


p’ctely. The memory of Antonio’s dark face as he had 
stood threateningly before the little fellow, at midnight 
by the window, returned with all its vivid, terrorizing 
power. Springing to the farthest reach of the room 
Ned crouched there, wide-eyed and trembling, and, of 
course, Luis followed his example. 

To “Forty-niner’s” reassuring words, and to Mrs. Ben- 
ton’s cajoling ones, neither child paid any further heed. 
They had been trained to believe that their promised 
word was the most sacred of all things, and now they 
had not only been induced to break that, but to break it 
in the face of Antonio Bernal’s terrible threat. 

The elders left them to themselves and regarded one 
another with regretful eyes. Then Aunt Sally repeated in 
detail all that there was to tell concerning the curious 
wand which had pointed the way to wealth ; and now 
Ephraim listened in vast respect. On the first recital, 
so hurriedly given by Jessica, and when she had run 
to get the staff, he had thought of the matter as one of 
the shepherd’s “pious mummeries.” It now assumed 
graver aspect. The lost staff might possess some mag- 
netic quality which was invaluable, as Old Century be- 
lieved; but beyond all that was the uncomfortable re- 
flection that Antonio Bernal was somewhere in hiding 
about Sobrante, and that doubtless it had been he, or his 
emissary, who had tampered with the mail pouch and 
caused Marty’s disaster. 

“Well, a man that hides must have somethin’ to be 
ashamed of. And I believe every single word that child 


NED’S STORY. 


149 


has told,” said Aunt Sally, in conclusion of her long 
harangue. 

“H’m ! I thought that ‘snake’ had had his fang ex- 
tracted down there at Los Angeles ; but it seems he’s the 
sort can grow a new one, when needed. Well, Fm pow- 
erful glad Fm home again. It takes a lot of honest men 
to keep watch of one thief, and I’ll prove handy. Fm off. 
I leave the lads with you. I’m going to find out three 
things: How Ferd, the dwarf, managed to break jail that 
night and leave no sign ; who robbed that mail pouch ; and 
where Antonio Bernal is at this precious minute.” 

“Here, at your service, amigo cried a mocking, voice, 
outside the shuttered window. A voice that all recog- 
nized at once as belonging to the late manager; yet, 
when Ephraim had hastily run out and around to that 
side of the house, there was nobody within sight; and 
nothing to be heard save the series of terrified shrieks 
which issued from the room he had left. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

TAKING THE DOCTOR'S ADVICE. 

For almost the first time in his life Ninian Sharp was 
under the doctor’s hands; and that gentleman’s verdict 
upon his patient’s case was simple and plain : 

“Nothing the matter with you but breakdown. The 
result of doing two men’s work instead of one. What 
you need, and all you need, is a complete change of 
thought and scene. Go off on some ranch and take a 
vacation. That’s your medicine.” 

“Thank you, doctor, but a prescription upon the near- 
est drug store would be easier to fill. In the first place I 
should worry all the time if I were idle, for ‘hustling’ has 
become my second nature. In the second — where shall I 
go?” 

The physician shrugged his shoulders. He, also, was 
a busy man and having finished his visit to his patient 
did not prolong it. He picked up his hat, remarked that 
he “didn’t doubt so clever a young man could find a fit- 
ting place, if he gave what was left of his mind to it,” 
and bowed himself out, leaving the leaven of his sensible 
advice to accomplish its legitimate result. 

As the doctor left the room the nurse entered, bearing 
with her a telegram which had been delayed en route, and 
a letter. It was with some reluctance that she delivered 
these to the man on the lounge, yet realizing, at the same 
time, how much worse for him was absolute cessation 


TAKING THE DOCTOR’S ADVICE. 


151 


of all his ordinary interests. With a solicitous smile, she 
inquired : 

“Would you not better let me read these first? They 
are probably unimportant.’’ 

“Thank you, no. I’m not yet reduced to imbecility 
and prefer to examine my own correspondence,” returned 
the invalid, fretfully. Then as if ashamed of his petu- 
lance, and with a return to his ordinary manner, added : 
“This telegram might as well have walked. Would have 
saved time, judging by the date of it; and as for this 
letter — that, certainly, has seen better days.” 

The nurse smiled again, indulgently, and busied her- 
self in tidying the apartment ; an occupation which would 
have incensed Ninian, since her idea of neatness seemed 
to him to be but the “disarrangement” of the heaps of 
papers and manuscript sheets scattered everywhere about, 
had he not been otherwise interested. A hasty examina- 
tion of the messages he had received evoked his exultant 
exclamation : 

“Hurrah ! The very thing !” 

“Good news?” asked the attendant. 

“The best in the world. The doctor’s prescription, 
filled to the letter. A ranch and new business. Say, 
would you mind going out for a bit? I’d like to get 
into some other togs and in a hurry. If I can, I’ll make 
the one o’clock train.” 

“The — one — o’clock — train !” gasped the bewildered 
nurse, believing that her charge’s brain had given way, 
even as the physician had suggested it might do. 


152 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Exactly. Please don’t be alanned. Some country 
friends of mine have invited me to visit them, and I judge 
they would be glad if I accepted at once. Their invita- 
tion fits in excellently with my own needs and, after Pve 
dressed for the trip, I’d be grateful to you for packing 
a few things, while I write to the bank and telephone to 
some other places. Just touch that messenger call, will 
you, please?” 

Certainly, he did not now look very like a sick man, as 
he sprang up and looked about him ; save that he put his 
hand to his head because of a momentary dizziness and 
seemed somewhat unsteady on his feet. However, his 
eyes had lost their dullness and a faint color had come 
into his cheeks; and the attendant saw no reason for 
opposing his sudden determination. 

The letter was Jessica’s, and its envelope had been 
mended by the postmaster after he had taken it, torn, 
from the mail pouch. The telegram was from Ephraim 
Marsh, and had been sent by the first messenger to 
Marion after that scene in the pantry with Aunt Sally 
and the little boys. It had been delayed by the curiosity 
of the operator, but had reached Mr. Sharp at last; and 
its import was that: 

“If you’re willing to use your brains for Sobrante 
folks, as you used them once before, now’s the time. 
There’ll be a led horse at Marion till you come, and the 
sooner the better. “ ‘Forty-niner.’ ” 

“A led horse. Why, he must have forgotten, if he 


TAKING THE DOCTOR’S ADVICE. 163 

ever knew, that* I’ve my own Nimrod here, that Mrs. 
Trent insisted upon my accepting, when I left Sobrante 
before. The horse must go with me, of course, and I 
flatter myself I can pick up a bit of instruction on riding 
among those fine ‘boys’ of the little captain’s. I’ll send a 
return message — no, I won’t, either. I’ll trust to luck 
and surprise them. Now to get ready.” 

A feeling that he was going “home” possessed the 
young man, and all his simple preparations strengthened 
rather than weakened him. Activity was his habit, and 
an hour before the train left the city he had completed 
his personal arrangements with his office, his bank and 
his landlord. He had paid his nurse the same salary she 
would have received had he required her services for the 
fortnight, as expected, and was ready for what came 
next. 

“I feel as I were entering upon a new life, instead of 
taking a rest cure,” he remarked to Mr. Hale, when that 
gentlem.an met him at the station, and explained that a 
Christmas invitation had come for himself, also. “And 
I say we’ll make it the j oiliest holiday those people down 
there ever knew. I sent a letter to your address, after I 
’phoned, and made out a list of things I’d like you to 
see to. Presents and so on ; and I’ll write as soon as I 
get there and let you know what’s up with the sharp- 
shooter. Some trouble, of course, but reckon it can’t be 
much. Ha! we’re off. Good-by. Forget nothing, add 
as much as you please to my list and send the bills to me. 
Good-by.” 


154 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


The train rolled noiselessly away from the long plat- 
form, and the reporter for the Lancet stowed himself 
comfortably away on his cushions and slept as he had 
not slept before since this nervous illness attacked him. 
Not once did he awake, till the conductor touched him on 
the shoulder, and stated: 

“End of the line, sir. Time to leave.” 

Ninian sat up and shook himself, still feeling a bit 
dazed from his heavy slumber, and had scarcely realized 
the fact of his arrival before a man limped into the car 
and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“Well done, lad. Welcome to Sobrante!” 

“Hello, Mr. Marsh! You here? Sobrante? I 
thought ” 

“Same thing. This is Marion; as near as we can get 
to our place on the rails. Remember, don’t you? Been 
sick, eh? You look rather peaked and I ’low I’d 
ought ” 

“No apologies. Here I am, and am not ill now. Only 
been a little overworked; and your telegram, as well as 
Miss Jessica’s letter, came in the nick of time. Not an 
hour after the doctor had ‘ordered this very medicine of 
change and recreation.” 

Ephraim looked sharply at his guest and reflected: 

“What our business needs is a clear head and a strong 
body, not an overtaxed man, as this ’pears to be. Well, 
sick or well, I hope he can see through some our mud- 
dles, if not all; and half a loaf is better than no bread.” 
Then he gathered the traveler’s belongings, and re- 


TAKING THE DOCTOR’S ADVICE. 


165 


marked : “I told Aleck to have a good supper ready. It’s 
a fine night and I thought we’d ride home afterwards. 
Unless ” 

They left the car and Ninian answered the other’s 
unspoken suggestion : 

“No, I don’t want to stay all night, good as Janet’s 
beds are. I’ve had a delicious sleep and feel like another 
man from this morning. Hello! they’ve taken Nimrod 
out already, and evidently are waiting for orders. I de- 
clare, the handsome beast looks as if he recognized this 
place and was as glad to get back to it as I am.” 

Old “Forty-niner” left his guest’s side and hurried to 
the spot where a trainman held the spirited animal, strok- 
ing its neck and speaking soothingly to it, to calm its ex- 
citement; and no sooner had the ranchman’s hand sup- 
planted the trainman’s than Nimrod ceased to prance, 
and with a little final shiver, stood stock-still, uttering a 
low whinny of delight. 

“That’s the talk, you beauty ! Welcome home, old boy ! 
Well, well, well! if you ain’t a sight to cure the head- 
ache! Yes, yes; it’s all right. This is Marion. We’ve 
got to stop at Aleck’s first. Remember Aleck? Re- 
member Janet and her sugar? Well, well, well!” 

Ninian approached, amazed and incredulous, inquir- 
ing: 

“Think that creature knows what you’re saying?” 

“Forty-niner” turned upon the questioner indignantly. 

“That’s a fool sort of question for a smart man to 
ask ! Think’ he knows ? No. There isn’t any 'thinking’ 


166 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


in this. I know he knows, and I know he’s just as glad 
to set foot on his mother earth, here in Marion, as I was 
t’other day when I stepped off this same train — or its 
mate of the morning. I wish all the men in the world 
were half as brainy as he is. And I tell you what, stran- 
ger, you couldn’t have done a thing would make your 
own welcome so sure as fetching Nimrod with you. If 
you’d left him behind some of us would have had our 
own opinion. Though I, for one, didn’t know he was 
yours till this very morning.” 

‘"And the led horse you spoke about ?” 

Ephraim looked up, surprised, answering, rather 
crisply : 

“At home. Why not? When I heard about Nimrod 
I wasn’t silly enough to bring another.” 

“So if I hadn’t brought him we’d been short a mount ?” 
insisted the reporter, teasingly. 

“One of us would had to foot it to the ranch, and that 
one wouldn’t have been me. Huh! Does me good to 
hear your nonsense gabble again. I declare it does. 
When did you get my telegraph?” 

“This morning.” 

“This — morning! Why, I sent it day before yester- 
day, no, the day before that. Let me see; to-day’s one, 
yesterday — the funeral, two — the one — yes, three days 
ago. John Benton himself gave it into the telegraph 
man’s hands. Himself.” 

They mounted and started toward McLeod’s Inn, 
Ninian doing very well, considering the impatience of his 


TAKING THE DOCTOR ADVICE. 


157 


Steed and his own limited experience of the saddle, and 
the sharpshooter sitting as composedly upon the back of 
as restless an animal as could readily be found. It was 
a bay, and pranced and curveted to the extent that Nim- 
rod seemed a doormonse beside it, and Ninian finally ob- 
served : 

“That’s an undecided sort of beast you have, yourself. 
Seems to be as much inclined to go backward as for- 
ward.” 

“Hale’s. Name Prince. Was on the mesa with Pedro 
till he died.” 

“Pedro dead? I’m sorry. Was it his ‘funeral’ you 
meant ?” 

“Yes. Terrible pity he couldn’t have held on till 
Christmas, his Navidad, that always meant so much to 
him. But he couldn’t. Things have changed at So- 
brante since you was here. I’m glad you’ve come. I’m 
powerful glad you’ve come.” 

“Any new trouble, Ephraim?” 

“H’m ! I should say. Ghosts, the women think, and 
scamps for certain. But it’s a long story, and here we 
are at Aleck’s. We mustn’t spoil that good supper of 
his and talk will keep. We’ve thirty miles ’twixt us and 
bed, ’less you change your mind and stop here, and that 
should give time enough to turn a man’s mind inside 
out.” 

“Were you so certain of my coming that you ordered 
a special supper, without hearing?” 


158 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Sure. I took you to be a man and I put myself in 
your place. In your place I should have come if I could ; 
and if I couldn’t I should have sent word. Light.” 

Aleck came out to meet them, and Janet followed, of 
course. Where one of that worthy couple was the other 
was sure to be; and both extended to the city man such 
welcome as made him more impressed than ever by that 
“home feeling” which had possessed him all day. He re- 
turned their good wishes with heartiness and did full 
justice to his supper, adding as a thankful tribute to 
Janet’s fine cookery : 

“That’s the first thing has passed my lips that hadn’t 
the flavor of ashes, since many a day. The doctor was 
right.” 

“Glad to hear any doctor ever could be right,” re- 
turned the innkeeper, who had never been ill, and at- 
tributed his health to his distrust of physicians. “Fresh 
air, wholesome food and a clear conscience — them’s to 
long life what the three R’s are to ’rithmetic. Powerful 
sorry you can’t pass the night. I’d admire to talk over the 
political situation with an intelligent man.” 

The side glance toward himself with which the Scotch- 
man said this sent Ephraim off into a mighty guffaw, in 
which presently they all joined; and in the midst of the 
merriment a stable boy led up the horses, and the So- 
brante-bound riders loped away. Yet, just before they 
were out of hearing, Aleck’s stentorian voice sent after 
them the warning advice ; 


TAKING THE DOCTOR’S ADVICE. 159 

“Keep a sharp lookout, ])y, and your hands on your 
guns. That spook’s hit the- trail again ! Watch out !” 

Ninian laughed, and “Forty-niner” tried to do so, but 
the most he could accomplish was a feeble cackle, which, 
liis companion fancied, betrayed his age as nothing here- 
tofore had done. It was a nervous, irritated laugh, and 
was matched by the altered voice in which its owner 
presently remarked : 

“If I can’t stop this fool business ary other way. I’ve a 
notion to ride round the country and shoot right and left, 
everybody I see, promiscuous. That’s the sure and cer- 
tain way to hit the spook, tos.” 

“Heigho! This grows exciting! Spooks? Myster- 
ies ? Mail robberies 1 What next ?” 

There was no answer from the sharpshooter, who had 
gotten his horse into a steady trot and was putting the 
road behind him in a manner that needed all Ninian’s ef- 
forts to match. If Nimrod had been as little used to the 
trail as his rider was to him the space between the two 
animals would have widened irretrievably ; but he was 
the better bred of the two, and though he didn’t waste his 
strength in a first spurt, as Prince did, he fell into a 
steady, easy gait, that soon told to his advantage. 

It was one of the perfect moonlight nights which come 
in that cloudless region, when one can easily “read fine 
print,” if so inclined, or see across country almost as well 
as in the day. The swift motion, the exhilarating air, the 
sense of freedom from city walls and cramped spaces, 


160 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


started the reporter into singing, and later into the silence 
of wonder over the astonishing power of his own voice. 

“Hurrah ! If that’s my warble 1 never heard it before ! 
It’s a marvelous atmosphere that makes a rag time tune 
sound like a nightingale’s music. If ‘Forty-niner’ would 

join it Hello! what’s up? What in — the name — of 

— all things I” 







CHAPTER XV. 
ninian's greeting. 

Suddenly, out of the moonlit distance before them, ap- 
peared a strange vision. A horse and his rider, as spot- 
lessly white and gleaming as the snow on the distant 
mountaintops, moving toward them as swift as the wind 
and in supernatural silence. The eyes of the steed and 
its master glowed with a wicked light that startled both 
the old frontiersman and the modern scribe, and set Prince 
and Nimrod into paroxysms of terror. 

Rearing, plunging and backing, Ninian’s mount had 
him soon on the ground ; and though Ephraim stuck to his 
saddle like a burr, he could not hold his horse and get at 
his revolver in that one instant of the appearance and dis- 
appearance of this strange “specter.” It was coming — it 
was upon them — it was gone; and the blast of cold air 
with which it passed them set the horses shivering in an 
ague of fear, and tied the men’s tongues. 

It seemed an age that they halted there in the open soli- 
tude, silently stroking and soothing’ their frightened 
beasts, before either could speak. Then “Forty-niner” 
found his voice and burst forth, absurdly : 

“Drat — that — pocket !” 

Ninian laughed; nervously, almost hysterically at first; 
then with honest merriment, exclaiming: 

“Oh, what a chance was lost there, comrade!” 


162 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


'‘Whoa, boy, whoa, I tell you! There, there, steady 
now. Well, you needn’t throw it in my teeth if it was !” 
retorted the sharpshooter, furiously. “Hang new pants !“ 

Ninian rolled on the ground and laughed afresh; then 
feebly observed: “That’s what I generally do with mine. 
But pockets I What of them ?” 

‘'Huh 1 it’s all very well for you to lie there and snicker. 
I lost the chance of my life that time. What’s the use of 
a repertation for hittin’ a pin at the distance I have if you 
can’t hit a fool when he’s close alongside ?” 

“Referring to me?” asked the reporter, sweetly. 

“Yes, if the coat fits. Drat that pocket !” 

“Poor pocket ! Who made it ?” 

“That pesky Sally Benton. The one was in burst right 

through, and she sewed this one so tight at the top 

Huh ! I believe she done it a-purpose.” 

“To be sure she did. If I remember correctly that esti- 
mable woman was opposed to bloodshed and preferred 
corporal punishment. I suppose she feared you might 
do what you attempted to do and ” 

“Shut up your shallow talk, young man !” ordered Eph- 
raim, with so much venom that the other realized his 
mirth was ill-timed and grew serious. 

“What was the thing, anyway. Marsh ?” 

“That’s more than I know, but just what I would have 
known if I’d hit it with a bullet. That’s the ‘spook’ 
Aleck warned us of. It’s been kitin’ round the country 
ever since that first night after Pedro died. Some say it’s 


ninian’s greeting. 


163 


his ghost. It pears to be wrapped in a white blanket and 
wears it same as he did. He had a white horse once that 
had outlived all the horses ever was, I reckon; and the 
Simple Simons all about us claim that it's the Indian’s 
spirit on the Indian’s horse, a-ridin’ round ’count of some 
trouble why he can’t rest. There was a letter thrown into 
our settin’ room night before last, in poor printing enough, 
too; and it said that Pedro had been banished from the 
Jiappy hunting grounds on account of a secret he’d told; 
and a warning everybody not to touch to try and find the 
place the secret told about. It scared the mistress pretty 
bad, though she didn’t let on much. The captain laughed, 
of course. She always laughs at everything; and Mrs. 
Benton — well, she just pinned the paper in her bosom, and 
says she : T’ll know where that is when it’s needed.’ She’s 
some sense, Sally has, though nothing to boast of, and 
she’s a mighty good sewer of patchwork, though she’s no 
good at pistol pockets. Well, shall we go on?” 

Ninian had remounted his horse, which still was restless 
and ill to manage, and Prince was capering about in a 
fantastic fashion that, however, was not greatly different 
from his behavior earlier in the evening ; and the reporter 
had satisfied himself that there was nothing now to be seen 
of the apparition which had flashed upon them and disap- 
peared on the road back to Marion. 

“Yes, let’s go on. And I hope the least that will happen 
will be the arrival of that ‘spook’ at Aleck McLeod’s 
cheerful inn. I’d give much to see his face if it did 
appear.” 


164 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Oh! it’s been there already; last night. The kitchen 
window was raised so softly none but Janet could have 
heard it, and before she could get to it, a white, skinny 
hand came through and snatched up a quail pie she’d 
baked for breakfast and off sooner’n she could catch it. 
She was so mad about the pie that, for a minute, she forgot 
to be scared ; then it came over her that she’d been cookin’ 
ghost’s victuals, and she shivered all the rest the night. 
She wouldn’t ever let Aleck far out of sight, she’s so 
fond of him, but now he can’t stir three foot away. Every 
man I met has something fresh to tell of how his women 
folks have been worried by the thing; and if somebody 
doesn’t settle his spookship mighty sudden, we’ll have all 
the females in hysterics ; and something we’ve never 
needed in this valley yet, and that’s a — doctor. There 
won’t be a nerve left anywhere.” 

Ninian laughed again ; adding, a moment later : “Not 
just the sort of place to send a nervous-prostration pa- 
tient, is it, after all? But what’s your own speculation 
concerning the nuisance?” 

“Let me tell you the whole busines, so far forth as I’ve 
heerd it since I came home. Then you can form your 
own mind on it and see how best to help my folks out 
their troubles; ’cause I ain’t trying to hide that was my 
reason for wanting you to come. You’d helped us so much 
with the title affair I knew you’d unravel this skein. But 
I’m powerful glad to see you, all the same, and I do 
hope you’ll get as much good for yourself out the visit 
as I want the mistress to get.” 


ninian's greeting. 


165 


The horses were now somewhat quieted by a long 
stretch of the level road, over which they had been al- 
lowed to travel at their own pace, and talking was easier. 
Ephraim gave in detail the story of Pedro’s visit and gift 
of the wand ; of the many strange incidents of the last few 
days ; of Ned’s serious illness, caused by fright. Aunt 
Sally declared, but, as his mother thought, by too much 
rich food and an overdose of candy; and how, though he 
had repeatedly been heard about the premises, nobody had 
as yet actually seen Antonio Bernal. However, at pres- 
ent, little was thought of but the suffering children; for 
Luis had remained true to his character of “echo” and 
had himself, that very day, been put to bed with the same 
high fever which was tormenting Ned. 

“You see, though it’s getting Christmas time and every- 
thing ought to be lovely, we’re about as badly off as a 
family can be. All the same, if anybody in this world can 
cheer the mistress it’ll be yourself, Mr. Sharp, and I’m 
powerful glad you’ve come.” 

For the rest of the ride they were mostly silent; each 
man revolving in his mind the most plausible explanation 
of Antonio’s behavior, in his would-be mysterious hiding, 
and his terrorizing of the little lads. 

Finally, Ninian expressed his own opinion : 

“It’s perfectly natural he should drift back to Sobrante, 
even with all the opprobrium that would attach to him 
there. It is his home. He believed, or pretended to be- 
lieve, that it was also his birthright. He knows nothing 
that would bring him a livelihood in the city ” 


166 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


‘'Except gambling,” interrupted Ephraim, contemptu- 
ously. 

“If he tried his hand at that even, he’d fail. He hasn’t 
the head to plot deeply. His maneuvers are all childishly 
transparent, and this last one — h’m ! Have you connected 
his ‘highness’ with this spook business?” 

“No, sir ; and you needn’t. That Antonio Bernal is the 
biggest coward above ground. Why, bless me! even if 
he’d had gumption enough to concoct such a scheme he 
wouldn’t have the nerve to carry it out. He’d be afraid 
of himself! Fact! No, siree. Top-lofty never had a 
hand in this,” answered the elder man. 

Ninian said no more but kept his suspicions revolving 
in his own mind ; yet was far more absorbed in the possi- 
bility that “Forty-niner” had suggested, of the copper 
vein in the canyon, than by anything else he had heard. 
They had ridden on again, each silent, till the lights of 
Sobrante came into view ; then Ephraim remarked : 

“Reckon the little tackers ain’t much better. The mis- 
tress don’t gen’ally keep lamps lit as late as this, ’less 
something’s wrong. Oh! I hope there’s no more death 
and disappointment on our road. ’Twould break Mrs. 
Trent’s heart, indeed, if she lost Ned.” 

Ninian roused himself from his reverie, and answered, 
lightly : 

“For such a cheerful fellow as I remember you, even 
when you were first laid up in hospital, you’re degener- 
ated sadly. What in the name of common sense is the 


ninun's srebting. 


167 


use of prognosticating evil, when good is just as likely to 
come ?” 

“Huh ! Tm consid’able older than you, young man,” 
retorted the sharpshooter, perversely. 

“All the more reason you should be more hopeful. 
What’s happened to you besides these external troubles? 
Something on your own account, eh? If so, believe me 
you have my hearty sympathy and my right hand to help 
you, if you need it.” 

Ephraim checked Prince so shortly that the animal 
reared on his haunches, and pushing his hat from his 
brow regarded the visitor with a sad but grateful coun- 
tenance. Then he spoke, and his tones were husky with 
subdued emotion : 

“Thanks, friend. I took to you the first time my old 
eyes lit on you and I’ve leaned on you, in my mind, ever 
since. There is something ’at worries me, but it’s so 
slight I shan’t put it into words — yet. I’ve got work to 
do still for them I love and that love me. Which I might 
maybe sum up in one small person — my precious Lady 
Jess. God bless her! Ay, God bless her! From the 
crown of her sunny head to the tips of her dainty feet, 
she’s the truest, squarest, tenderest creature the Lord ever 
sent to lighten this dark world. They all love her, every 
one them rough, hard-handed sons of toil whom she calls 
her ‘boys’ ; but there isn’t one, not one, can begin to love 
her as I do. Not one. It is she that makes me still keep 

a little faith There, there! what an old fool I am! 

But, thanks, all the sam.e, and don’t you forget I’m your 


168 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


own to command if need comes. Shake, neighbor, and 

may your old age be Giddap there, Prince! Let’s 

on, lad ; let’s get on.” 

Ninian did get on, but again silently pondering that 
here again was something mysterious in this honest octo- 
genarian’s mood. There was an undercurrent of sorrow 
which, he was sure, was wholly divStinct from the anxieties 
of his mistress and her household, and he wondered what 
it might be. Surely, for an old man, though wifeless and 
childless, he had much to make him happy. The devotion 
of the family in which he had lived for so long, his com- 
fortable home, his freedom from care concerning his fu- 
ture — to the young man struggling amidst a crowd of 
competitors to make a place for himself in the w^orld, it 
seemed as if the venerable sharpshooter had cause for 
nothing but rejoicing. However, these might be mere 
imaginations, and best banished for the present. 

Ephraim made straight for the house, and the sound of 
the horses’ footfalls brought figures flying to the open 
doors ; most welcome of these in the eyes of the two men, 
the small one of Jessica herself, her head stretched forth 
as she peered into the night, and the lamplight behind 
her making a radiance about her golden head and slender 
gracefulness. But she poised there on the threshold only 
for an instant, till she was sure what animals these were, 
then darted toward them with uplifted hands and a cry 
of delight: 

' ‘They’ve come! Oh, mother, they’ve come! — they’ve 
come !” 


ninian's greeting. 


169 


Another moment and the reporter had slipped from his 
saddle and had caught up the little girl, more glad on his 
own part than he would have once thought possible to 
have her once more beside him. 

‘'Yes, captain, here we are! But did you expect us — 
or me? And how could you tell that we were not 
strangers ?” 

“Why, don’t you suppose I’d know the step of any 
horse of ours? And though Nimrod is yours now I know 
him like — like a brother. Don’t I, dear fellow ?” and from 
Ninian’s clasp she ran to embrace the down-bent head of 
the thoroughbred. 

On his side, Nimrod was equally rejoiced. His velvet 
nostrils caressed the little girl’s cheeks and flowing hair, 
while his dainty forefoot gently pawed the ground in ex- 
pression of delight and not impatience. Prince stood 
looking on, unmoved. He was not Sobrante raised and 
seemed to feel it; or so Jessica fancied, as she left off 
petting Nimrod and passed to Prince’s side, to stroke 
his head also, and to murmur words of praise for good 
behavior in bringing Ephraim safely home. 

Then “Forty-niner” led the beasts away, while Jessica 
sped after Ninian, who had been greeted — almost grasped 
— by Aunt Sally. She had drawn him indoors, laughing, 
crying, whispering, entreating, all in a breath: 

“Oh, oh, oh, land of Goshen ! My suz I If you ain’t 
the gladdest sight I’ve seen this dog’s age ! How are you, 
how are you? Slim? You certainly do look slim,” she 


170 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


declared, as she led him into the radiance of the lamp and 
critically peered into his face, both through and above 
her spectacles. 

“Well, my good friend, I never was anything but slim, 
as I remember. And I have been just a bit ailing, if that’s 
your meaning. However, I’m all right now, most de- 
lighted to be here, and wholly at your service or that of 
anybody else who needs me. How are the children? 
Ephraim said that they were ill. And Mrs. Trent?” 

As if in answer to his questions, there was a patter of 
bare feet on the stairs and in came Luis, his great dark 
eyes looking twice their normal size and his voice shrill 
with excitement, as he tried to say : 

“Ned — Ned’s gone and got — and got — Ned’s gone got 
gone roof. Oh, oh!” 

Mrs. Benton dropped Ninian’s hand which she had con- 
tinued to hold and shake up and down, much in the man- 
ner of one pumping water, and caught up the child to also 
shake him vigorously : 

“Hi ! What’s that you say ? Don’t you dare to tell 

auntie a story. What’s Neddy Oh, my land I all the 

catnip’s gone out of my life, seems if !” 

The reporter and Jessica looked at each other and burst 
into laughter. It was impossible to help it. Aunt Sally’s 
manner had been so droll and yet so dramatic ; and, oddly 
enough, over Ninian there stole again the feeling that he 
had come home, and that the griefs and perplexities of this 


ninian's greeting. 


171 


household had become his own. With that his merriment 
was over, for the fear Mrs. Benton’s face had betrayed 
was sincere. 

Jessica, also, had sobered instantly, and catching her 
guest’s hand hurried him impulsively upward, crying : 

“He’s done it again! Oh, if mother sees him it will 
frighten her to death !” 

They reached the upper floor and the end of the hall 
which divided it into two sections, and from whence a 
ladder ran upright to a trapdoor opening on the sloping 
roof. The scuttle had been left open for ventilation, and 
up this steep stairway Luis was pointing with wild ges- 
tures. 

Again Aunt Sally caught and shook the little fellow, 
but he could make no better business of talking than be- 
fore. Jessica had not waited for more than one glance 
into the empty chamber where the sick children had been 
cared for, since it was more quiet than the customary bed- 
room below ; and that glance, added to Luis’ gesticulations, 
told her the story. 

“Oh, he’s walking in his sleep again! He’s gone on 
the roof !” 

The next the reporter realized she had climbed the lad- 
der and disappeared through the scuttle. He forgot that 
he was, or had been, ill, and followed her, only to pause 
at the sight which met him as his head protruded through 
the opening. It was a house of many gables, and upon 
the peak of the farthest one poised Ned in his night- 


172 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


clothes, slowly swinging his arms in the circular fashion 
children adopt preparatory to a leap or spring. 

'‘One!” counted the childish voice. "Two!” 

Ninian closed his eyes, as if by so doing he might shut 
his ears to the final "Three !” which would mark the fatal 
leap. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


JESSICA GETS HER WISH. 

Ninian Sharp had closed his eyes against a catastrophe 
which, seemingly, nothing less than a miracle could pre- 
vent. When he opened them again the miracle had been 
performed. 

Love had lent to Jessica a strength and swiftness al- 
most incredible even to her active body, and she had 
crossed the steep, slated roof just in time to clasp Ned’s 
feet and to drag him backward with her as she rolled 
down upon the broader portion. Yet even here was im- 
minent danger, for the lad was struggling, in his sudden 
awakening, and the pair were slipping hopelessly toward 
the eaves. 

But now was the reporter’s chance and the test of his 
athletic training. He threw himself prone upon the slip- 
pery slates, worming his lean person over them till he 
caught the girl’s frock, and bidding her “hold fast !” drew 
both the children slowly toward the scuttle. When his feet 
had found the edge of this the danger was past ; and they 
were presently down upon the hall floor, laughing and 
sobbing together in one excited group. That is, the sis- 
ter was sobbing and Ninian was laughing in a nervous 
way that had grown upon him with his illness, and that 
told to Aunt Sally’s keen ear how really frail he still was. 

But Master Ned, the cause of all this emotion, looked 
calmly upon the stranger, and demanded: 


174 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Where’s that printing press you promised, hey? I 
can say five, ten letters now, and I can spell cat back- 
wards !” 

“Is it possible? Before such erudition I bow my hum- 
ble head !” laughed the visitor, grateful for any, even non- 
sensical, words that would relieve the tension of the 
moment. 

But here Aunt Sally caught up the boy and looked him 
over anxiously; then joyfully declared: 

“He’s got his senses back. Oh! Gabriella, where are 
you? Neddy’s all right!” 

“Oh, auntie, hush ! There’s no need to tell mother any- 
thing of this last danger, and if you’ll only please put Ned 
back to bed she won’t have to know.” 

“Ain’t goin’ to bed. Been a-bed’ nough,” protested the 
supposed invalid. “Want my clothes. Want to go down- 
stairs get my supper.” 

“Get my supper,” assented Luis, creeping forward from 
the corner where he had hidden in fear of he knew not 
what. 

“Hello, echo! You on hand again? How’s business?” 
demanded Ninian, drawing the child towards him. 

“First rate,” answered Ned, for his comrade, who 
promptly echoed : “ ’Strate.” 

But now came the mother, hurrying up the stairs, with 
a bowl of gruel she had gone to prepare, and interest in 
which had opportunely prevented her knowing either of 
the reporter’s arrival or her son’s peril. And the visitor 
sprang to his feet again, while she welcomed him as cor- 


JESSICA GETS HER WISH. 


175 


dially and gracefully as if she had been sitting in state, 
expectant, within her own pretty parlor. 

One flash of her eyes toward her boy, safe in Mrs. 
Benton’s arms again and carefully wrapped about in her 
capacious apron, relieved any anxiety she might have felt 
in coming upon this unexpected group, and she asked, 
with a little burst of laughter: 

“Is it possible that Ned was so quick to welcome you? 
Well, son, it might have been more courteous to have 
gone downstairs; but I’m sure our friend will pardon a 
little lad who’s been ill. He’s really better, isn’t he, Aunt 
Sally? He looks quite natural.” 

“Yes, honey, he’s better. I reckon he’s passed the 
turnin’ point now, if nothin’ new sets in. You take Mr. 
Sharp down into the settin’-room, ’cause he’s seen the 
children and I’ll set with them a spell. Wun Lung can get 
the supper well’s I can, if he’ll put his heatheny mind to 
it. Eh? What is it, sonny?” 

Fortunately, Ned, like most sleepwalkers, was wholly 
unconscious of his actions w^hile in that abnormal state, 
and made no comments on anything save his own re- 
luctance to go to bed while so interesting a gentleman was 
in the house ; but was finally coaxed to do so by the prom- 
ise of Luis sharing his cot as well as his porridge ; where- 
upon Mrs. Trent kissed him good-night and invited the 
guest below. 

His protestations against another supper, after the ex- 
cellent one he had taken at Aleck McLeod’s, met with 
nothing but the hospitable rejoinder: 


176 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Oh I but you can surely manage a light refreshment, 
since you’ve ridden thirty miles from Marion.” 

To which the little captain added her entreaties, say- 
ing: 

“I’m hungry, anyway. I’m always so, I guess, but I 
couldn’t think of breaking bread before you unless you 
share it.” 

Therefore sleepy Wun Lung came with the tray, and 
was gratified by the friendly notice of the stranger; and 
Mrs. Trent made tea in the little swinging kettle over her 
alcohol lamp, her daughter declaring that it always tasted 
better served in that way. Ninian found that, in spite of 
his protestations, the simple refreshments were very ac- 
ceptable, and the trio were quietly enjoying their reunion 
when Jessica suddenly remembered Ephraim and sprang 
up to go in search of him, exclaiming : 

“Even if Mr. Sharp isn’t hungry, dear old ‘Forty-niner’ 
is sure to be. He’ll be here soon, maybe, but I won’t wait 
till the kettle is cold. He’s been sleeping at the ‘house’ 
ever since he got back and might go straight to his room, 
if I don’t prevent.” 

When she had gone Ninian observed upon the remark- 
able devotion between the old sharpshooter and his small 
pupil, and the mother assented; yet added, as an after- 
thought : 

“I sometimes regret it. Jessica is a child of impulsive, 
yet absorbing affections. She can see no flaw in the 
character of anybody she loves ; and — well, none of us are 
perfect, and Ephraim grows old.” 


JESSICA GETS HER WISH. 


177 


Still, when he entered, the lady greeted him with cor- 
diality, and served him promptly ; and presently they were 
all talking eagerly of the recent events at Sobrante. Of 
course, Pedro came in for a brief but loving mention ; and 
to the guest’s inquiry as to what had been done with the 
fine flock of sheep which the old man had herded, the mis- 
tress replied : 

“I have sent them up into the mountains, with the herds 
of a neighbor, for the present. Ephraim, here, petitioned 
for the post of shepherd, but I dared not give it to him,” 
and she looked deprecatingly toward the sharpshooter. 

“No, she didn’t,” assented he. “She could trust that 
Old Century, but she couldn’t trust me.” 

There was greater bitterness -in the tone than he had 
ever manifested before his small captain, and she was 
quick to notice and resent it. 

“Look here, you blessed old grumbler, you stop that, 
please. If not ‘please,’ stop it anyway, because I’m your 
commander. You know why, and only why, my m.other 
said ‘no’ to that bright scheme of yours.” Then she ex- 
plained to Ninian, who was listening closely: “You must 
understand that shepherding is the very loneliest thing 
that has to be done on a ranch. The shepherd is alone 
from week to week; on some ranches from month to 
month. He hasn’t a soul to speak to save when somebody 
chances to cross his field, which isn’t often. A lot of men 
go crazy, living that way, and mother has always been 
afraid for even Pedro. I never was for him, though, 
’cause he always liked it and had lived so— well, forever. 


178 


JESSICA, THE HEIEESS. 


But naughty old ‘Forty-niner’ felt it would be his ‘duty' 
to go up there away from all of us, and mother wouldn’t 
let him, and so ” 

“And so, my honored captain, you’ll force me to be a 
mere hanger-on and idler.” 

Jessica held up her forefinger, warningly. “That’s 
enough, Ephraim. I am ‘She that must be obeyed,’ Sam- 
son says, sometimes. And one of the times is now. If 
you and mother aren’t ashamed to disagree before my 
dear Mr. Sharp, Fm ashamed to have you !” 

All laughed and none took offense at this plain talk 
which, jesting though it seemed, covered a serious mean- 
ing, and soon “Forty-niner” remarked, as if to close the 
subject : 

“Well, all’s said and done ; yet, still, I know if I’d been 
let to have my way in this I’d have stopped a deal of mis- 
chief. It would be better, seems to me, to have an old 
frontiersman living in Pedro’s cabin than a spook.” 

Mrs. Trent started, and, the guest fancied, shivered 
slightly. But she rejoined, impatiently : 

“Oh, Mr. Marsh ! that nonsense again, and from you !” 

“So they say, ma’am.” 

Cried Jessica gayly: 

“The only thing Sobrante needed to make it as lovely 
as those old English places one reads about in the story 
books was a ‘ghost,’ and now we’ve got it ! Honest, and 
I do hope you’ll see it for yourself. I want to so much, 
and one night Samson and I chased it, but — it got away. 


JESSICA GETS HER WISH. 


179 


The ‘boys’ say now that it has even taken to horseback. 
Don’t you wish you might be luckier than I, Mr. Ninian?” 

A glance flashed between the reporter and the sharp- 
shooter, but not quite swiftly enough to escape the girl’s 
observation ; and, after a moment’s pause, she exclaimed : 

“Why, I believe you have already seen it !” 

There was an awkward silence, which Mrs. Trent broke 
by the stern reproof she managed to throw into one word : 
“Jessica !” 

“Yes, mother, I know. It’s silly, and I will be careful 
not to mention the delightful subject before the children.” 

“What are you but a child yourself, my mature little 
woman?” demanded the visitor, playfully. 

“Why, I’m a little girl, of course; but one who always 
wanted to see a fairy, till somebody told me there was 
none. Now I’m longing for this ‘spook’ — that really is, 
’cause so many, many have seen it — and I’m not even let 
to talk about him.” 

Mrs. Trent shook her head regretfully. 

“I’m afraid we’ve spoiled you among us, my darling. 
But, leaving these unexplained things to explain them- 
selves at their proper time, suppose you go and see that 
all is ready in Mr. Sharp’s room? Wun Lung is still 
mooning by himself on the kitchen stoop and will do what 
you ask him.” 

“They all do that, I infer,” commented Ninian, as the 
child hastened away, eager to serve all whom she loved. 

“Yes, they do. It’s a delightful, but not, maybe, the 


180 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


wisest life for any girl to live. No playmates except her 
two small brothers, and no schooling that is at all regular 
or effective. I can’t imagine what Sobrante would be 
without her, and yet ” 

She paused and “Forty-niner” took up her sentence : 

“It wouldn’t be Sobrante, mistress. That’s all, I, for 
one, couldn’t stay here and serve under any other body 
now except my captain and so saying, as if a shadow of 
the future fell upon him, the old man rose and went out, 
quite forgetting to say good-night. 

Meanwhile, Jessica had found Wun Lung and also 
found him more than willing to go with her and perform 
even additional tasks, since by so doing he might have 
the comfort and safety of human presence. Fragments of 
talk had come to him in his kitchen concerning the ap- 
paritions which had startled the whole countryside, during 
these past few days, and had received the strongest con- 
firmation from his housemate, Pasqual. The latter be- 
lieved, indeed, all that he himself heard and invented much 
more. He had grown to be afraid of his own shadow and 
now resorted to the men’s quarters on each and every oc- 
casion that presented, feeling a safety among them he 
could not feel at the “house” among a lot of women. Of 
course, his defection from duty entailed endless conflicts 
between himself and Aunt Sally, but since this resulted in 
nothing worse to the delinquent than a loss of some dainty 
food, he could put up with it. He was away now, bunk- 
ing in Marty’s room, and Wun Lung sat alone, too afraid 
to go to bed, yet too uneasy to enjoy the beauty of the 


JESSICA GETS HER WISH. 


181 


night. His sharp, black eyes peered here and there and 
everywhere, about the place; and when Jessica came run- 
ning to him, in her noiseless moccasins, he jumped so high 
that his queue flew out at a right angle from his head, and 
he screeched: 

“Oh, mly flathe’s, mly flathe’s !” 

Lady Jess laughed aloud. 

“No, good Wun Lungy. Not your fathers, nor even 
any of your relatives, but only me. Having had supper, 
the next thing for our dear Mr. Sharp is a bed and sleep. 
Come help me make it ready.” 

The Chinaman rose with alacrity, and soon had col- 
lected the bed linen, towels and bucket of water, sug- 
gesting that Jessica should bring a lighted candle. 

“Oh ! we don’t need a light, Wun Lung. It’s as bright 
as day with the shutters open, and we must be quick, 
anyway, for the dear man has been ill and is tired.” 

The room was the same that Mr. Hale had found so de- 
lightful during his own visit to the ranch, and the girl 
threw the shutters wide, to let in the fresh air and moon- 
light while they arranged the place for occupancy. She 
left the bed making to the longer and stronger arms of her 
assistant, but herself attended to the pitchers and toilet 
things; and while so engaged, with her back toward the 
open windows, was suddenly startled by an ear-piercing 
shriek from the Chinaman. 

Shriek? Not one, but many; prolonged, reiterated, till 
the whole house seemed in an uproar; and facing swiftly 


182 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


about, to learn the cause and still the clamor, Jessica found 
her lately expressed desire completely gratified. For 
there, clearly distinct in the moonlight, not ten paces from 
the window whence she gazed, was the phantom horse 
and rider! 


wjj nr Jyjffr^oa o?irroff glofiv/ orfj 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE CACTUS HEDGE. 

The shrieks ended by Wun Lung’s throwing himself 
face downward on the floor, but they had roused the whole 
household, even the sleeping children. Those in the room 
below had rushed to the stairs, wondering what could 
possibly have happened to the Chinaman, whose outcries 
these certainly were. The little lads had sprang from their 
cot, screaming on their own account, and Mrs. Benton 
had awaked from the “forty winks” she was taking in her 
chair. 

As a natural result of her sudden awakening she 
grasped the two children who were clinging to her skirts 
and shook them soundly, ordering them to “shut up to 
once ’fore you scare folks to death.” 

They were not easily pacified and she thus, fortunately, 
had her hands full, for the moment, else the fear-paralyzed 
Wun Lung might have fared hardly. As it was, none but 
Jessica had a full, clear view of the strange visitant, since 
the Chinaman had closed his eyes against it and the others 
had not thought to look out of doors ; but she saw it, and 
with critical distinctness. 

For an instant, indeed, her own nerves had thrilled and 
her heart seemed to stand still ; the next her overpowering 
desire to see the “spook” for herself had conquered her 
terror and she gazed with all her might. 


184 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


‘'It certainly looks like Pedro, with his clothes all white. 
And the horse — it may be his that died — but — but ” 

The ghostly steed and its rider remained utterly mo- 
tionless, as if scrutinizing the house on their own part 
or waiting for somebody to appear ; then, as the little girl 
bounded to the open window the better to gratify her curi- 
osity, the animal — if such it was — slowly wheeled about 
and loped away. There was a sound of muffled footfalls 
on the hard drive, and the vision had vanished. 

Jessica still leaned from the casement watching and 
thinking more rapidly than she had ever done before ; but 
when convinced that the apparition was really gone, she 
slowly retreated below stairs, passing her mother and 
Ninian on the way, yet not pausing till she had gained the 
side of the sharpshooter. Him she seized, exultantly ex- 
claiming :, 

“Well, Ephraim, Eve seen your specter!’’ 

“You— have!” • 

“And it’s no more a ‘ghost’ than I am.” 

“What do you mean?” he demanded, hastily; ashamed 
of himself for half regretting that the supernatural view 
of the matter might not be the right one. “It isn’t ? Well, 
what is it, then?” 

“It’s Antonio Bernal and his horse, Nero.” 

“Huh ! How do you fetch that ? When both of them 
are black as my hat.” 

Her last, lingering uneasiness banished by his presence 
and the sound of her own words, with firmer conviction 


THE CACTUS HEDGE. 


185 


she declared to him and the others who had now gathered 
about her : 

“I ‘fetch it’ fast enough. This was the way dear old 
Pedro used to ride ; and this is the way your ‘spook’ sat his 
horse,” she announced, so vividly mimicking both men 
that all who had known them recognized the likeness, and 
Ephraim exclaimed : 

“That’s them to a t-i-o-n-tion ! Can seem to see ’em 
, right here before me. Well — what next?” 

“Pedro wore his blanket like a king. Antonio has cov- 
ered his head with that white thing, and even so wasn’t 
half Pedro’s height. I shall not soon forget that splendid 
Old Century, the last time I saw him ride away, that 
night. A hundred years old, yet as straight in his saddle 
as a rod.” 

“Antonio Bernal was a magnificent horseman, darling,” 
suggested Mrs. Trent, from the chair into which she had 
sunk, as if weakened by the series of startling events 
which had befallen her home. 

“Even so, mother, dear, he couldn’t match old Pedro. 
Antonio sat forward, so, with a careless sort of slouch — 
just like the ‘spook’ had.” 

“What could possibly be his motive for such foolish- 
ness, daughter, granting you are right?” . 

The captain laughed. 

“Upon my word, mother, even you, as well as Ephraim, 
seem sorry it isn’t a truly ghost, after all.” 

“No, no, indeed. I’m sorry, rather, to think it may be 


186 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


Antonio, as you fancy, and that he still persists in trou- 
bling us, even by so silly a disguise.” 

“It hasn’t been so silly, Mrs. Trent, if it has hood- 
winked a lot of sensible people, and you are right — there 
must be a motive for it in the actor’s mind. I hope Jes- 
sica’s judgment in the case is correct, for back there in 
Los Angeles, we didn’t find the manager a difficult person 
to deal with,” remarked Mr. Sharp. 

The girl went on: 

“Then that horse. Don’t you remember, mother, and 
you, Ephraim, the curious little switch Nero used to gpve 
his tail whenever he was turned around? Well, this 
‘spook’ horse did just the same thing. Oh, I know, I 
know I’m right!” 

“But how could he turn a black horse snow white, even 
if you are? As I remember Nero he wouldn’t stand much 
nonsense, even from his own master,” said “Forty-niner.” 

“Pooh ! If lack-wit Ferd could paint Prince, as he did 
— another spirited horse, if you please — Antonio could do 
what he liked with Nero. It’s paint, of course, or some- 
thing like it.” 

“But the eyes? The eyes as we saw them on the road, 
a few hours back, were all on fire. You could see them 
almost before you could make out that it was a man on 
horseback was coming. Isn’t that so. Sharp?” demanded 
Ephraim, persistent to the last. 

Jessica turned upon him, triumphantly: 

“There! I knew from the way you two looked when 


THE CACTUS HEDGE. 


187 


we were talking a little while ago that you’d seen some- 
thing out of common! Do tell me about it, please. Do, 
do!” 

Ninian laughed, glanced at his hostess’ face, and re- 
plied : 

“That’s a story will keep, and you should be in bed. 
I don’t want to have my coming harm you when I meant 
it to do you good. Even such a courageous child as you 
ought to sleep a great deal.” 

She had been courageous, indeed, and had astonished 
him by a coolness and readiness of observation which 
would have done credit to a much older person. He be- 
gan to realize how different she was from other children 
of her age, and how the hardihood of her rearing had 
developed qualities that were quite unchildlike. He won- 
dered how she would adapt herself to the habits and 
thoughts of other girls of her own age, and was not sur- 
prised that Mrs. Trent craved such society for her. He 
wished that he might see her placed in some good school, 
yet was doubtful if just the right one could be selected 
for a pupil so different from ordinary. However, that 
was not his affair, and to relieve the family of his further 
presence at that late hour undoubtedly was. So he bade 
them all good-night and went to his room, and very 
shortly afterward everybody under that roof was sound 
asleep. 

“Oh, what a dreamless, delicious rest I’ve had!” was 
the visitor’s waking thought. His next, that it must be 
very late and that he had put his hostess to unnecessary 


188 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


trouble. Then he turned over “for just one more 'svink’' 
and slumbered on for another couple of hours. This time 
he had dreams in plenty; and finally roused from one, of 
beautiful gardens peopled by harmless “spooks,” to a 
sound of sweet music. By his watch he saw that it was 
eleven o’clock and remembered that it was Sunday. Also, 
the music was that of a familiar hymn, played upon a fine 
piano, which was taken up and sung by a choir of mixed 
voices, from the childish treble of the two little lads to 
the stentorian bass of Samson, the mighty. 

Hastily dressing, Ninian slipped quietly down the stairs 
and entered the sunny parlor; where Jessica motioned to a 
chair which had evidently been reserved for him, and 
softly approached him with an open hymn book. 

It was Mrs. Trent at the piano and her rich soprano 
voice faultlessly led her straggling chorus, filled for the 
most part by the men grouped outside on the wide porch. 
He could see them through the long, French windows, 
sitting or standing as each felt inclined, but all with that 
earnest seriousness of demeanor which befitted the day 
and the task. For task it evidently was to some of them ; 
John Benton, for example. He stood alone, at the most 
upright post attainable, his book at arm’s length, and his 
head moving from side to side, following the lines, with 
a little upward toss of it as he reached the end of each, 
while from his throat issued most startling tones. 

Afterwards, Aunt Sally explained, for she had seen 
Ninian’s amused survey of her “boy,” that: 

“John can no more carry a tune than he can fly, and 


THE CACTUS HEDGE. 


189 


I’d rather hear him sawin’ his boards than tryin’ to sing. 
But he feels it’s his duty to help the others along by sing- 
ing at it and sort of keepin’ Gabrieli’ in countenance, 
seems if. Sweet, ain’t it?” 

It had been “sweet” in the guest’s opinion — ^the whole 
of the short service; conducted with such simple dignity 
and reverence by the Madonna-like ranch mistress; the 
music so well chosen, the f^w prayers so feelingly of- 
fered, and the brief exhortation read from the words of a 
famous divine who had the rare gift of touching men’s 
hearts. And he so expressed himself, as well as his sur- 
prise, over the belated breakfast which Mrs. Benton served 
him when the service was over and the household dis- 
persed. 

“Yes, I think it’s the nicest thing there is about this 
dear Sobrante. There’s always been the best sort of in- 
flooence here and that’s why I like my boy, John, to be- 
long. Cass’us, he used to hold the meeting, and after he 
died I feared Gabriella wouldn’t be equal to it. But bless 
your soul ! if down she didn’t come that first Sunday ’at 
ever was, and her not havin’ left her bed sence it hap- 
pened, and sent Wun Lungy out to have the old mission 
bell rung, a signal. I’ll never forget it to my dyin’ day, 
I shan’t. Her like a spirit all in white and a face was 
both the saddest and the upliftedest ever I see ; and them 
rough men all crowdin’ up to their places, so soft you’d 
thought they was barefoot ’stead of heavy shod ; and Jes- 
sie with her arms round the two little ones, and her mother 
pitchin’ the tune, same as usual, and — and — I declare I 


190 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


can^t keep the tears back yet, rememberin’. Before she 
was done the whole kerboodle of us was sobbin’ and cryin’ 
like a passel of young ones, and there was she, with her 
broken heart, as calm and serene as an angel. Angel is 
what she is, mostly; with just enough old human natur’ 
in her to keep her from soarin’ right away. Gabrieli’s 
one them scurce kind makes you glad every time she does 
a wrong or thoughtless thing, ’cause then you know she 
ain’t quite perfected yet, and you’re surer of keepin’ her 
on earth. My ! the good that woman does beats all. This 
very day, when she’d lots rather stay to home and visit 
with you, she’s give orders for Ephraim to have the buck- 
board got ready to take her twenty miles to see a neigh- 
bor who’s sick. She’s fixing a basket of things now, and 
is in a hurry. So that’s the reason she didn’t come to 
keep you company herself. Have another piece of chicken 
—do.” 

“Thank you, no. I’ve enjoyed my breakfast hugely, 
and feel as if I’d never known a moment’s illness.” 

There was the sound of wheels just then and Ninian 
strolled out to offer his service as escort to the ranch mis- 
tress in case she might desire it. But the offer was not 
made, though the lady greeted him with evident pleasure, 
and even herself glanced toward the vehicle, as if wishing 
he might ride with her. But there was Ephraim Marsh, 
in the glory of a white shirt and brilliant necktie, brushed 
and speckless, and beaming benevolently upon all less 
favored mortals. It was only upon such errands of mercy 
that the mistress ever left her home, and there was not a 


THE CACTUS HEDGE. 


191 


ranchman in her employ but esteemed it an honor to drive 
for her whither she would. 

Ninian saw the state of affairs plainly enough, and, 
possibly, so did “Forty-niner” himself ; who might, under 
some circumstances, have sacrificed his pleasure for that 
of the young man. But not now. Ever since he had re- 
turned from his long stay in the city, the sensitive old 
fellow had felt a difference in his surroundings. There 
was nobody mean enough to tell him of the base sus- 
picions that his fellow workmen had harbored about him, 
and they fancied that by treating him with more than 
former friendliness they could offset the unknown injury 
they had done him. It was this very effusiveness that had 
roused his suspicions that something was wrong, and he 
saw in this solitary drive with his beloved mistress a 
chance to unburden his mind and get her wise opinion on 
the matter. 

So he merely ‘^passed the time of day” with the guest, 
helped the lady to her place, and stepped up beside her; 
then chirruped to his horse and was off. 

But Ninian was not allowed much disappointment, for 
there was Lady Jess, clasping his hand and looking up 
into his face with the brightest of smiles, as she ex- 
claimed : 

"7ust think of it, dear Mr. Sharp! we are to have a 
long, delightful day together. Mother will not be home 
before nightfall and I am to do everything I can to make 
you happy. As if I wouldn't, even without being bidden ! 


192 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


But what shall it be first ? Where would you like to walk 
or ride? Or would you rather rest and read?” 

“First, I would like to walk around to that curious 
hedge yonder, that you told me before had been planted 
by the old padres. Everything about these ancient mis- 
sions interests me.” 

“Oh ! I love them, too, and Fm so glad we live on one, 
or the place where one used to be. That hedge is prickly- 
pear and was meant to keep the Indians out the inclosure, 
if they were ugly. But it’s a hundred years old, and 
Pedro could remember when it was ever so much smaller 
than now.” 

It was a weird stretch of the repellent cactus, whose 
great gnarled branches locked and intertwined themselves 
in a verdureless mass of thorns and spikes which well 
might have daunted even an Indian. The hedge was 
many feet in width and higher than Ninian’s shoulder, 
still green on top, but too unlovely to have been pre- 
served for any reason save its antiquity and history. One 
end of it was close to the kitchen part of the house, and 
the other reached beyond the wall of the farthest old 
adobe. 

“A fonnidable barrier, indeed ! It reminds me of some 
of Dore’s fantastic pictures,” said the reporter. 

“Doesn’t it? My mother has books with his drawings 
in, and I have thought that, too. It is a trouble some- 
times, because anybody coming across the field from yon- 
der must go either way around the quarters or all along 
the back of the house, before he can get in here ; when if 


THE CACTUS HEDGE. 


193 


it weren’t there at all, it wouldn’t be two steps. But we 
will never have it cut down because my father said so. 
He wouldn’t have anybody break a single leaf, if he could 
help it, and — oh, oh!” 

Mr. Sharp lifted his head from his close examination 
of a branch that had particularly interested him and saw 
Jessica pointing in astonishment at the very heart of the 
great hedge. 

“What is it? Something especially curious?” 

“Curious I It’s — it’s — dreadful I You can see right 
through it ! Somebody has ruined it !” 

The reporter stooped and followed the direction of her 
guiding finger and saw that a strange thing had indeed 
been done. For a considerable length the terrible barrier 
had been literally tunneled, though the fact was not easily 
discernible. Walls of the bare and , twisted branches were 
still left unbroken on either side, but a sufficient space had 
been scooped out to admit the passage of a human being 
should such desire a hiding place. 

“Oh ! isn’t that dreadful ? Who could have done it, and 
why?” cried the captain, in distress; and her companion 
could only think of Aunt Sally’s declaration, made to him 
at breakfast, that Sobrante was “bewitched.” 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT. 

‘‘Now I know how it was that Antonio disappeared that 
time when Aunt Sally and Ephraim heard him outside the 
pantry window !” cried Jessica, exultingly ; and seeing the 
gentleman’s puzzled expression, told of the scene within 
the cold closet and of the mocking answer “Forty-niner” 
had received, when he said he was determined to find out 
Antonio’s retreat. Then she bade her friend stoop again 
and see for himself how easy it was for one at the rear of 
the house, where the pantry was, to slip into this cactus 
tunnel and be utterly hidden from anybody who would 
search from that side. 

They saw, also, that the broken branches had been 
thrown under the open foundation of the kitchen, leaving 
no sign of the ruin that had been done. 

“A clever scamp, indeed ! And any other sort of plant 
would have withered at the top and led to discovery. But 
not this ; for the verdure has evidently long been gone 
from this part of the hedge,” observed Ninian. 

“Oh, yes ! This end has been dead for a great while, 
yet my mother would not have it removed. It would 
have lasted maybe forever in just that way; and Antonio 
knew how we prized it. Oh, dear! I do believe he is as 
wicked as the 'boys’ say, though I hate to think that of 
anybody.” 


WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT. 


196 


“Surely, you have had proof enough of his evil doing, 
even without these later fantastic developments. You 
must never trust that man, little girl, should he again try 
to make you.’’ 

“I think he won’t bother me. Why should he?” asked 
she, in some surprise, for her friend’s tone had been most 
impressive. “Why should you imagine that ?” 

“I don’t know myself, exactly why. It just ‘happened’ 
into my head. By the way, captain, did you send me all 
of the specimen of copper that you had?” 

“Oh, no, indeed! My mother thought best not. We 
sent you only a little bit, cut from the larger one Pedro 
dug. Let’s go into the office and I’ll open the safe and 
show you the rest. Do you know anything about such 
mines and stuff?” 

“I do know something about ores and minerals, my 
dear, for before I was a newspaper man I was a clerk in 
the office of an expert in such matters. I should greatly 
like to see your sample,” he answered, readily. 

So she led the way at once and took the key from a desk 
drawer, which anybody might have opened, and Ninian 
remarked : 

“What an insecure place for a safe key ! Yours is cer- 
tainly a most confiding household.” 


“Oh, it’s not a very safe safe, anyway,” she answered. 



raim’s really, though I don’t think he’s ever been near it 

jjov of !t ^vo^T-: . 

since he came home. Isn’t it a great, clumsy key? But 


196 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


my father told me that there are safes much, much larger 
and stronger than this which are opened by very small 
keys. Odd, isn’t it?” 

As she spoke she was down upon her knees in front 
of the strong box and trying with all her small strength 
to turn the lock; and after watching her for a moment 
the reporter laughed, and suggested : 

“Suppose you just merely pull at the knob. It looks to 
me as if the thing were already opened, for the door isn’t 
tight; or is that protruding edge of it a part of the gen- 
eral crudeness?” 

Jessica obeyed, pulling with such unnecessary force 
that the safe flew open and she fell backward, laughing. 

But Mr. Sharp did not laugh. In view of what had 
been told him he was afraid the thing had been tampered 
with, and watched in silence while the little girl thrust her 
hand into the safe and felt all about, her face lengthening 
as she did so; but again, suddenly brightening, when she 
exclaimed : 

“Oh, my mother must have done that ! There was all 

the money in here that was left after Elsa got her own 

share. The first nights two of the ‘boys’ slept in the 

house to watch, ’cause mother was afraid we might lose it 

again. Then, since ‘Forty-niner’ got home only he has 

slept here, and he generally ‘bunks’ on the lounge in this 

very office. That’s what it is, what it must be. My 

mother has worried about Antonio, and has taken the 

money and the piece of copper away and pWf’thfeiii’!scSne- 

where else. Well, never mihd‘.^'''fene^ll^ sWow* 

uio K Ir t'riHl .‘iriroif oH SDni;' 


WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT. 


197 


soon as she comes back ; and now, what shall we do next ? 
Would you like to ride?” 

Ninian passed his hand across his brow in mild per- 
plexity. An instant conviction had seized him that here 
was another feature of the mysteries pervading this peace- 
ful ranch; and though he as instantly frowned upon his 
own suspicion, it would remain to torment him. How- 
ever, he said nothing further to disturb Jessica’s com- 
posure, and readily agreed that a ride would be delight- 
ful, though he added, grimly: 

“I’m so lame and stiff already from yesterday’s horse- 
back exercise that I feel older than Ephraim. I expect a 
'hair of the same dog’ is the best cure, and wish now I 
had made time, back there in town, to get used to a sad- 
dle. I never found it convenient, though, and poor Nim- 
rod missed his outings even more than I did, I fancy. It 
certainly is a glorious day for a canter, as almost all our 
days are.” 

“It’s nice, too, when the rains come. We do things 
indoors then that we never do all the rest of the year. My 
mother plays and sings half the time, ’cause then she can’t 
go poking around all over the ranch, like she does now. 
In the evenings the 'boys’ all come in and tell stories or 
do their best to amuse us. We were always happiest, too, 
when Pedro came, and when my father was here he 
coaxed him and he came often. Now — she’ll never come 
again !” she finished, with an irrepressible burst of grief, 
which she as quickly suppressed, for she saw that it sad- 
dened her guest as well ; and she had been reared in the 


198 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


Spirit of hospitality that makes the stranger glad even at 
the cost of one's own impulses. 

So she added, with a smile that seemed all the brighter 
because of the tears still glistening on her long lashes: 

“ril bring you some books out here and you can rest in 
the hammock while I run and have the horses saddled. 
Buster isn’t as fast as Nimrod, but he’ll go now and then 
as if he were a colt. I hope this will be one of his fast 
times, don’t you? I love to ride fast!” 

Ninian smiled rather grimly, answering: 

“Just at present, from the state of my poor muscles, I 
fancy I’d prefer a gait as slow as Buster’s ordinary one. 
But if I stay the week out, I mean to learn a thing or two 
about that fine beast of mine.” 

“A week or two! Why, you’re to be here till after 
Christmas, anyway, and that’s a fortnight off. I wish — 
oh, I wish you would live here always !” 

From his delightful resting place in a hammock that 
was “stretched just right,” and which commanded one of 
the loveliest views in the world, he looked afield and 
wished so too. Fond as he was of his own active city life, 
this broad outlook appealed to him most strongly; yet he 
shook off the longing that assailed him to pass his days in 
the country and opened the book Jessica had brought. He 
was soon absorbed in its pages and forgot the errand upon 
which the child had gone, till, after a long time, as it 
proved, Ned stole bashfully up and pushed a scrap of 
paper into his down-hanging hand. 


WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT. 


199 


“Hello, youngster!’' cried the gentleman, sitting up. 
“What’s this?” 

The child’s timidity banished at the first sound of the 
visitor’s voice. Mr. Sharp reading, with his spectacles 
on, and Mr. Sharp speaking in that hail-fellow-well-met 
manner were two different people. Besides that, Ned’s 
shyness was not his strongest feature, though it cropped 
out now and then to the astonishment of his family. Also, 
he was fresh from the hands of Aunt Sally and his 
catechism lesson, into which she had adroitly forced a 
hint of the conduct due toward a “wise man that can write 
printin’.” 

Supposing it to be a production of the little fellow’s 
own, Mr. Sharp delayed the reading of the crumpled epis- 
tle he had received and continued his talk with its bearer ; 
who presently forgot his Sunday manners, and reproach- 
fully demanded that “printing press you promised.” 

“ ’Cause if I had it I’d be just as smart as you, you 
know.” 

“Smartersyou I” cried the echo, clasping Ned’s neck 
with that choking affection of his. 

Ned turned upon his other self and pummeled him well, 
declaring : 

“No, you wouldn’t neither, Luis Garcia! ’Twouldn’t 
be your printing press, and you can’t spell cat backwards ! 
So, there!” 

“Cat backwards, dogboycat,” gurgled Luis, in a rapture 
of mere existence. 

Ninian laughed at the comical pair, finding them in- 


200 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


finitely diverting; and was only brought back to his im- 
mediate duty by the insistence of the small messenger, 
who demanded : 

“Why don’t you read your letter? I should think any- 
body what makes newspapers could read a little girl’s 
letter.” 

“That’s a fact; I’ll see if I can;” and accordingly spread 
out the scrap of wrapping paper, which had not been 
very smooth to start with and had suffered further ill 
treatment at Ned’s hand. The note required a second 
reading before he could fully comprehend its meaning, 
which he then found sufficiently startling to send him 
stableward in hot haste. The message was from the little 
captain, and was worded thus : 

“dear mister sharp please excuse me i must go to a 
Dyeing man and i Mustnt Tell Who cause if my mother 
was Home I Wood and she wood say yes. She always 
helps dyeing folks and sick ones one the boys will go and 
he can ride Moses or prince Which he likes. I guess 
marty so i Cant right any more the paper is so littul and i 
cant Stay. Jessica.” 

This had been written with a coarse blue pencil, evi- 
denly picked up in the stable or workroom ; and to the re- 
porter’s inquiries, put to the first ranchman he met, there 
seemed no satisfactory answer. The man in question had 
not seen Jessica since service, and the men’s quarters, to 
yvhich Ninian hurried, were almost deserted. Sunday 
>vas their own, so the “boys” spent much of it afield, hunt- 
ing or visiting on neighboring ranches. Yet a further 


WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT. 


201 


search revealed John Benton, in his own room, reading; 
and to him the visitor again put the question of Jessica^s 
probable whereabouts, and showed the letter. 

The carpenter was on his feet instantly, a look of ap- 
prehension deepening the lines of his earnest face; and 
running to the door he shouted to a stable boy who was 
crossing the space before the old adobes : 

“Natan! Natan!" 

The youth paused, hesitated, yet came no nearer; and 
John repeated his summons, with an imperative “Here!" 
Then muttered an explanation to the reporter : “Another of 
those no-account Greasers ; same kind as the Bernals and 
hired by top-lofty when he was in charge. Works well 
enough, but " 

By this time Natan had slouched forward and stood 
stolidly awaiting an expected as well as merited reproof, 
because of stalls imperfectly cleaned and harnesses left 
in other than their own places ; for John was orderly to the 
last degree and a very martinet in disciplining his subor- 
dinates. However, it was no neglect of duty that was 
now to be scored, but a question was fairly hurled at the 
young groom and in a voice sharp with anxiety : 

“Natan, did you saddle Buster just now?" 

“But yes," answered the lad, greatly relieved. 

“Where is he? And Nimrod?" 

“Nimrod is at the ‘house’ horse block, is it not? Si, 
Groomed to the highest, and a beauty we’re all glad to see 
back where he belongs." 

“Your opinion wasn’t asked. Where is Buster?" 


202 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


''Where the captain wills. I know not, I,” with a shrug 
of his lean shoulders. 

"Did she mount him?^^ 

"Why else should he be saddled, no?'’ returned the 
groom, with an insolent laugh. 

John’s temper flamed and he turned away with a dis- 
gusted snort, meaning to seek information elsewhere on a 
case he felt permitted no delay. But Ninian was cooler, 
if equally suspicious that Natan was concealing some- 
thing that should be known; so, laying his hand not un- 
kindly upon the youth’s shoulder, he said : 

"If you know anything of this, where Miss Jessica has 
gone and with whom, or if alone, it will be worth your 
while to tell me and at once. I’m pretty good pay for 
seasonable articles,” he finished, in his journalistic manner. 

He had taken a dollar from his pocket and was care- 
lessly tossing it from hand to hand, nor was he disap- 
pointed when Natan fixed his black eyes greedily upon the 
coin. Still the lad said nothing, only pondered in his 
own dull mind which of two masters it would benefit him 
most to serve; and annoyed by this hesitation, Ninian 
hazarded a guess : 

"Oh, well, if you prefer to work for Antonio Bernal, 
it’s all one to me.” 

Natan’s mouth flew open and his eyes grew wild: 

"You know it, then, already, you?” 

"I know many things,” was the sententious answer. 

"But it is a pity, yes. The so fine man and such a 
rider. He will ride no more, poor Antonio, si/' 


WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT. 


203 


Ninian’s blood ran chill, yet he asked, still quietly, 
though foreseeing evil he dared not contemplate: 

“Who brought the word ?” 

“Ferd, the dwarf,” came the reply, as the dollar ex- 
changed owners. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Antonio's confession. 

These were the facts : Natan had been grooming the 
horses, Nimrod and Buster, when suddenly and sound- 
lessly there appeared before the window in the stables’ 
rear, the misshapen head and shoulders of Ferdinand Ber- 
nal. He was mounted on a snow-white horse and seemed 
to the superstitious stable boy to have risen out of the 
ground. Buster, also, had appeared to be frightened for a 
few seconds, though he speedily recovered his equine 
calmness and merely whinnied his delight, while he at- 
tempted to secure another mouthful of alfalfa before the 
bridle slipped into place over his head. 

“Natan, the little captain,” whispered Ferd, through 
the narrow casement. 

“Well, yes ; the little captain,” returned the other, in a 
louder tone, and grinning at his own astuteness in discov- 
ering that this was a white horse so very like the “spook 
horse” that it might be one and the same. Some of An- 
tonio’s schemes he had fathomed, being himself a sort of 
schemer in his own stupid way. 

“I want her. She must come. Antonio dies.” 

“Antonio — fiddles !” retorted the other, contemptuously. 
Then saw, to his surprise, that Ferd’s head had dropped 
upon that of his strange steed and that he was whimpering 


ANTONIO’S CONFESSION. 


205 


and sobbing in a pitiful fashion, well calculated to deceive 
the unwary. 

It was at this juncture that, fancying to see her beloved 
Buster made ready for her ride, Jessica ran singing into 
the stable, and paused amazed at sight of Ferd, weeping, 
and so oddly mounted. Horses there were 'galore in the 
Sobrante stables and pastures, but never one like this; so 
white, so spirited, and yet so marvelously marked. For 
even by the daylight, there in the slight shadow of the 
wall, the animal’s eyes glowed with an unearthly light, 
terrifying to Natan and startling even to her fearless self. 
Indeed it had not been until the moment of her appear- 
ance and Buster’s whinnied welcome, that Ferd’s horse 
had turned its face toward them and revealed his curious 
visage. 

“Why, Ferdinand Bernal !” she cried, giving him his 
full title, and thereby mystifying still further the won- 
dering groom. “I do believe that’s the very creature 
that’s been scaring such a lot of people everywhere ! How 
came you by it and what ails its eyes?” 

Ferd lifted a face that was grimy with dirt and streaked 
with tears. His misery was evident and needed no words 
to impress it upon the tender-hearted girl, who ran to 
the window, begging: 

“What is the matter, Ferd? Poor Ferd! are you ill? 
In trouble? What?” 

“The death. It is the accursed house. Where death 
comes once — ^he is always there. He told me — you must 


206 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


come. Come ; now, right away, si. Before — too late. He 
said it. Antonio, my brother.’^ 

“You know that, then — about your relationship? But 
what has happened to him?” 

The dwarf glanced at Natan and motioned to her to 
send him away. For reasons of his own, the groom was 
glad enough to obey, because dire had been the threats of 
the mighty-fisted Samson, as well as the stern John Ben- 
ton, against any on that ranch who should be caught 
“consorting with that low-lived Ferd or the late man- 
ager.” Besides, in spite of Jessica’s apparent indifference 
to the glowing eyes of the white horse they infected him 
with a horrible fear; so he made his escape at the first 
chance; leading Nimrod around to the house and tying 
him there to await Ninian’s pleasure, while he himself 
resorted to the most distant and safest spot he could find. 
This had seemed, in his mind, the mission corridor; but 
he found it already occupied by a party of the ranchmen 
who had no desire for his society, and after a short de- 
lay frankly told him so. It was in passing from this an- 
cient structure to his own room in another building that 
he had been intercepted by John, and called to account. 

Yet, sometime before this, Jessica had finished her in- 
terview with the unhappy Ferd; had written her note of 
explanation to Ninian, though keeping her destination 
secret, as the hunchback implored, in accordance with 
Antonio’s wish : had dispatched her message by Ned and 
Luis ; and, unknown to them, had rapidly ridden away in 


ANTONIO'S CONFESSION. 


207 


company with the white horse and her treacherous guide 
— to comfort the dying. 

That death should have come again to the cabin on the 
mesa, whither she was led, seemed natural enough to her ; 
remembering with such keen sorrow the passing of old 
Pedro. 

And for once Antonio Bernal had told the truth. Ly- 
ing helpless, almost motionless, on the narrow bed in the 
shepherd’s home, he greeted his visitor with a pitiful smile 
on his white face, and a tone from which the last vestige 
of his old bravado had departed : 

“The captain ! si. You did well to come, my Lady Jess. 
But you are not afraid?” 

“Why should I be afraid, Antonio? You are ill, I see 
that. What’s wrong? What can I do to help you?” 

“Nothing. There is nothing. I played my game and I 
lost. I — I saw you last night at the window.” 

“And I saw you ; I knew you ; but I did not know why 
you were fixed like that and had painted your poor horse 
all white.” . 

“Ha! You saw that? You, when nobody — older — 
well, I lost.” 

“Are you hurt? What can have happened to you since 
then?” 

“Shot. On the way here, fearing nothing, a passing 
horseman, unknown, braver or quicker than the rest, 
thought he could rid the country of its ghost. Ah, yes ! it 
was merry — for a time. It is past.” 

Jessica was crying softly, unable to endure the sight of 


208 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


agony, even his who had tried to injure her and hers. 
The sick man perceived this and something of the affec- 
tion he had once felt for his master’s child, before he had 
betrayed that master’s trust, stirred him to speak and 
thrilled him with compunction. He felt himself to be 
doomed ; he had already sent Ferd away again to summon 
a priest ; and according to his faith he meant to make his 
peace with the world ; but these preparations had been on 
his own account only. Now he began to feel something 
for her also. 

Suddenly she ceased crying and stood up to bend over 
him and beg that she might be allowed to help him. 

'‘A drink of water — some coffee? You were always so 
fond of coffee, Antonio, and I know where Pedro kept 
all his things. So many, many times we drank it here 
together, he and I. And you — how came you here, An- 
tonio ?” 

“Where better or nearer could I be? Pedro, the most 
obliging, yes. Just when I needed his house he left it. 
Si. Why, but I am better still, is it not, I?” 

Indeed his color had improved and his voice grown 
stronger since Jessica’s arrival; and he was able to take 
the cup of coffee which she made him. This was more 
palatable than anything Ferd had prepared and stimu- 
lated him still further. For a few moments after he had 
taken it he felt so improved that he almost gave up the 
doing of that for which he had summoned her. But a 
sudden return of pain again alarmed him, and as soon as 
that spasm was past, he motioned her to the bedside. 


Antonio’s confession. 


209 


“In the cupboard — look, quick !” he whispered, point- 
ing to a set of shelves built upon the wall and behind 
whose locked doors Pedro had been accustomed to store 
his baskets. 

Jessica tried the little door, which refused to open, 
and to her inquiry for the key, Antonio pointed to his own 
pillow. After a slight hesitation she approached and 
secured the key from beneath it ; but when she had opened 
the cupboard found that all the Indian’s exquisite weav- 
ing had been removed. In its place was the metal-pointed 
staff, with its shank broken in half, and she exclaimed, 
indignantly : 

“Oh ! how could you do that, Antonio? And how could 
you be so mean as to take it from two children?’’ 

“Ha ! Once it was all mine — this land. The copper in 
the canyon, mine, also. Si. The padres’ secret which the 

shepherd kept was mine No, no ; not yet !” he broke 

off, with a sudden, delirious scream, fancying he saw the 
head of a man appearing without the door. 

His outcry set Jessica shivering with fear at being 
alone in that isolated spot with a possible madman ; but a 
second glance into his pallid face restored her natural 
courage and assured her that he was powerless to injure 
her, even had he wished to do so. Just then, too, Buster 
whinnied and she felt that he was company. It sounded 
as if he had seen some stable companion of his own and 
had welcomed it; yet this could not be, of course, since 
nobody knew of her whereabouts or would be likely to 
come to the mesa now. Therefore, she did not follow 


210 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


Antonio’s glance doorward, but sought at once to relieve 
his distress. 

“Won’t you drink another cup of coffee, Antonio? Or 
shall I make you a bit of porridge ? There’s hot water still 
in the kettle and I know how. I’ve made it for my 
mother, often, when she was ill ; and the little boys always 
have it. Oh, I can do it quite well !” 

She was so eager to serve him, and the pain had once 
more so greatly lessened for the time being, that the late 
manager graciously consented, and with such an absurd 
assumption of his old “top-lofty” manner that Jessica 
laughed even while she hastened to put on the tiny por- 
ringer and seek the meal. The little oil stove blazed mer- 
rily, and so deft was she that, in a very few minutes more, 
she had a dish of the steaming mush beside the cot and 
had thinned a cup of condensed milk with which to make 
it the more palatable. Sugar there was in plenty, for 
Pedro had loved sweets ; so that nothing was wanted, save 
appetite, to render the repast all that was desirable; yet 
when it was quite ready Antonio could not take it. 

The pain had returned and with added intensity ; and it 
was due to that fact that he no longer delayed the con- 
fession he had sent for her to hear. 

“Hark ! Behold ! I talk.” 

“Yes, Antonio, I’m listening.” 

“Well, I — how begin? It is a story long, not pleasant.” 

“Wait. Open your mouth and I will feed you. Yes, 
do.” 

His black eyes stared at her, astonished. In her place, 


ANTONIO'S CONFESSION. 


211 


V 

had anybody done him the ill that he had done her, he 
would have let his enemy starve and have rejoiced at a 
suffering well deserved. But this child — he wished she 
would turn her face away, and not look upon him with 
that innocent compassion. She was too like her dead 
father, and his one best friend ; whom in life he had really 
loved and in death had not scrupled to despoil. 

^‘Come, Antonio, eat. Afterward you'll be stronger to 
talk,” she said, as coaxingly as if he had been her little 
brother, Ned; and thus persuaded, he opened his mouth 
and received the morsel she forced upon him. Thus it 
continued ; she feeding, he resting and with halting eager- 
ness relating the story of his own misdeeds. 

'Tor I must go to pay the price. Si. But the poor lad, 
my half-wit brother Ferd, ugly, sinful, desolate — he will 
be left alone. Is it not? For him, if I restore all, there 
may still be kindness and a home at Sobrante, that should 
all be his — if ” 

“No, Antonio; you know better. That is a poor, fool- 
ish notion that has been put into your head. You know; 
for Mr. Hale, who is a lawyer and understands everything 
like that, told you and us that you hadn't a bit of right 
to a bit of land anywhere in this world. Unless, indeed, 
you may have bought it since that little while ago in Los 
Angeles. And if you have, where did you get the money ?'' 

'‘Lo dicho dicho;” he muttered the Spanish phrase: 
“What I have said I have said,” and sighed profoundly, 
as one hopelessly aggrieved. 

Jessica lost her temper. She forgot that he was ill 


212 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


and remembered only that he was imputing treachery to 
her parents and to others whom she loved, and retorted, 
warmly : 

‘‘What you have ‘said’ doesn’t make the truth, Sehor 
Bernal. And if you have anything to tell me I wish you 
would tell it now. I ought to be at home with Mr. Sharp, 
who’s come to make us a visit. My mother is away, and 
it’s rude to leave guests alone like that. I, who want to be 
a perfect lady, do hate to be rude. So tell, please, and 
quick.” 

“It was he, then, whom I saw on the road with old 
Ephraim, yes?” cried Antonio, in a voice which was cer- 
tainly much stronger than it had been when Lady Jess 
arrived. 

“Yes, it was he. Now begin, please. What first?” 

Neither the man on the bed nor the girl who listened 
to him so intently suspected that other ears were as eager 
to hear this dying confession. Yet so it was, and Buster’s 
short whinny of welcome had been a real one. For John, 
on Moses, and Ninian, on Nimrod, had lost but little 
time in riding to the mesa; though because of the re- 
porter’s poor horsemanship, the carpenter felt that they 
would really save time by taking the longer level road 
around by the north, and not the narrow canyon trail, 
which was dangerous for the inexperienced. This had 
consumed some time, but each felt a thrill of relief, when 
they at last arrived, to see Buster calmly nibbling at the 
dry herbage near the shepherd’s cabin. 

“Where Buster is Jessica is, this time,” said the car- 


THE VERDICT. 


227 


could not have endured. Death would have been far 
preferable to them. 

So it befell that the late manager’s fate was in the hands 
of his enemies, so to speak; and while Mrs. Benton and 
“Forty-niner” would faithfully perform their duty to- 
ward him, they elected to do it along lines of their own. 


/ 


CHAPTER XXL 


CONCLUSION. 

Events crowded one another at Sobrante. 

Under the compulsion of his brother’s will, so soon as 
that brother was able to think of anything beyond his own 
suffering, Ferd led a party of the ranchmen, with Ninian 
Sharp at their head, to the canyon cave and the pit where 
the little captain had been imprisoned. They shuddered 
as they beheld it; yet could but rejoice that Old Century 
had sought her there, and had, so opportunely, revealed 
its precious secret. They also took good care to blaze 
their path as they went, for it was most intricate and 
bewildering. They had the curiosity to test the powers 
of the wonderful staff, which John had carefully fitted 
with a new top, and were amazed at its curious behavior, 
as it zigzagged over the floor of the cave almost unsup- 
ported. Whatever the metal, or compound of metals, on 
the point, it was certainly attracted by, and indicated the 
presence of, copper in the earth beneath. 

Returning to the house after this trip of exploration, 
Marty was promptly mounted upon the ‘^ghost horse’^ 
Nero, and sent to Marion with telegrams for Ninian’s 
expert friends in Los Angeles, and to bring back the mail. 
The unhappy animal had been treated to a liberal bath of 
gasoline and soap suds, and had come out of it a sort of 
mongrel; but with the phosphorus gone from about his 


THE VERDItT. 


225 


ride. One at a time he’ll ‘spell’ us, and the one released 
will take his place at the beasts,” was the doctor’s decision. 

So it was done. A blanket was speedily fastened about 
two poles drawn from the corral, and over these Pedro’s 
hard mattress was laid; and thus, placed as comfortably 
upon it as might be, Antonio was once more conveyed to 
his old home at Sobrante. 

And there, that Sunday night, was wild rejoicing and 
much speculation concerning the outcome of his confes- 
sion. 

“Sharp's the man to put the thing in trim. He’s the 
very chap! He knows all about minerals, and he says 
that this copper we’ve struck is the very purest article he 
ever saw I Hurray I Hurray I Three cheers and a tiger 
for the Sobrante Copper Mine!” shouted the hilarious 
Marty. 

Meanwhile, there had been short but heated discussion 
among her loyal henchmen as to whether Mrs. Trent 
should be forced to receive and care for, under her imme- 
diate roof, a man who had done her so much injury; and 
the decision had been unanimous : “No !” 

Even John, who had helped to bring him thither, joined 
his voice to this assertion ; and to the next question pro- 
pounded, as to w^ho would attend him and where, had as 
loudly answered: “I don’t know.” 

Temporarily, the sehor was resting in the household 
sitting-room, but it was evident should not long remain 
there. 


226 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Where then? Hate him as we may, we can’t let him 
die on our hands,” said Samson, looking as black as he 
could. 

“Don’t you fret yourselves, ‘boys,’ ” said a cheerful 
voice near the group. “Mr. Ma’sh and me, or me and Mr. 
Ma’sh — for I had to put it to him pretty plain, ’fore he’d 
seed it right — me and him will take that misguided 
creatur’ into our hands, and ” 

“May the Lord have mercy on his soul!” ejaculated 
Marty, fervently. 

“Me and Ephraim will ’tend him, turn and turn about,” 
continued Mrs. Benton, ignorant Marty’s irreverent re- 
mark. “He’s to be put into Mr. Ma’sh’s room at the 
quarters, and I’ll take this first night’s job. I shall begin 
it with a dose of picra, and the first page of the West- 
minster catechism ; and if that don’t put him in good shape 
for the doctor and Ephraim, in the morning, my name 
ain’t Sally Benton, nor never was. The doctor, he’s rode 
home for his instruments and such, and hopes to get the 
bullet out in the course of time. But it’s my opinion, and 
his, too, I reckon, ’cause he didn’t deny it when I put the 
question plain, it’s our opinion that Antonio Bernal will 
never walk another step in his life. But he’ll live. He’ll 
live everlastin’. Them old Californy folks always do. 
He’ll simply be paralyzed from his waist down.” 

Despite their antipathy to him, a thrill of pity ran 
through every one who heard her; and to most of those 
gtalwart men it seemed that thi§ was a punishment they 


THE VERDICT. 


223 


and bright the reverend guest became, that Antonio was 
helped over his own tedious time of waiting, and scarce 
knew how the time passed before John’s return. 

This was sooner than could have been anticipated. The 
physician was already halfway on the road, intending a 
neighborly call at Sobrante, when the carpenter met and 
literally collared him. • 

“Come you must, Dr. Kimball. I shan’t take 'no’ for an 
answer,” was the decisive retort to the rose-grower’s 
prompt refusal. 

“I shall do nothing of the sort. I’m not a practicing 
physician now, and I never was a surgeon. As for that 
scalawag, Bernal, if he’s got himself shot, he’s met ex- 
actly what he deserved. Giddap!” he cried, to his horse, 
and was dashing past, just as John’s long arm reached 
out and clutched the ranchman’s coat. 

“It isn’t so much for him as for our Lady Jess. You’re 
not in such a tearin’ hurry, neighbor, and if you are — 
well, just let your hurry wait.” 

Whereupon, in a few brief, telling sentences. Dr. Kim- 
ball was put in possession of the facts Antonio had re- 
vealed, "and had wheeled his horse about, with a whimsical 
snarl : 

“Well, forge ahead. For anybody named Trent I’d 
break my own resolutions a dozen times a day.” 

It is probable that the kind-hearted man would have 
gone anyway, even if he had ridden some miles still far- 
ther on an opposite road. The knowledge that somebody 


224 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


was suffering and needing him was an appeal to his pro- 
fessional instinct he would scarcely have resisted, but he 
had to make a protest first. 

All merriment ceased when he entered the cabin on the 
mesa, and Jessica instinctively sought the reporter’s hand, 
needing his sympathy during the anxious few minutes 
that ensued upon tl^c doctor’s arrival. Fra Sebastian and 
John had followed the surgeon indoors, but Ferd, who had 
brought the priest to the upland, still remained within the 
deserted fold, whither he had retreated as soon as his 
errand was accomplished. To him death of any sort, even 
that of an animal, brought a horrible fear, and nothing 
would induce him to leave his shelter ; till, when the con- 
ference was over, Jessica ran to him, exclaiming: 

‘‘Cheer up, Ferd! Oh, Ferd! He’s going to live, 
though, maybe — maybe he will never walk again. Come 
and see him, Ferd. He wants you. He needs you.” 

The dwarf came reluctantly, still adoring his brother 
and still shrinking from him and the sight of his agony. 
The examination had been painful, of course; and the 
condition upon which life might still remain a bitter one. 
However, it was — life! And to Antonio, at that present 
moment, that was all he craved. 

“We must make a litter or stretcher and take him to 
the valley. He will need the closest care and watching. 
He couldn’t stay up here, and have a single chance of re- 
covery. Let’s see, there are five men of us, counting the 
dwarf. WeMl have to walk with the stretcher, and he 
shall lead the horses, all but Buster, whom Jessica can 


Til VIRDICT. 


221 


what every time. In the jerk of a lamb’s tail he’ll draw 
up a paper which’ll explain what you promise, and you’ve 
got strength enough to sign your name to it. The minute 
you do that I’m off for Kimball, and I’ll fetch him up 
here fast as horses can travel — if I have to carry him on 
my back!” 

“Quick ! The paper ! I sign — I live !” 

“Quick” it was, and though Ninian was no lawyer, he 
was always well provided with pads and fountain pens. 
Also, he was clever enough to use the longest and most 
impressive words wherever possible, and thus convinced 
the sehor that the document sounded legally important. 
Indeed, the injured manager could scarcely wait to affix 
his signature, so eager was he that John should be off on 
his errand of salvation. 

An hour later the padre came, and Jessica led Ninian 
away, that the pair might have the cottage to themselves. 
Then, when this visitation was over, the good man lin- 
gered, that he might hear for himself the doctor’s opinion 
when he should arrive. He, too, had listened to another 
confession from the truly repentant Antonio; but there 
was still a sacred office to perform if this awaited opinion 
should be for death, not life. But he had ridden far, and 
was tired, having come directly from his own church 
service at the distant mission, and Jessica’s hospitality 
could not endure to see the look of weariness on the old 
man’s kindly face. 

“Beg pardon, Fra Sebastian, but would you like a cup 
of coffee?” 


222 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


“Ah! my daughter, would I like the impossible? But, 
yes, I am famished, indeed, for the good dinner of Marta, 
my housekeeper,” he answered, with a shrug of his plump 
shoulders. . 

“Well, father, I cannot give you a dinner, but I can 
make you a pot of fresh coffee ; and in Pedro’s little store- 
room are cans of meat, and beans and biscuit. Oh I I tell 
you I I’ll bring the plates out here — there are two whole 
ones — and dear Mr. Sharp and you shall have a picnic.” 

Already, with the light-heartedness of childhood, she 
had almost forgotten the sorrowful errand upon which she 
had come to the mesa. Besides, to her, a thing that was 
possible was, also, probable, and John would never have 
raised false hopes in Antonio’s breast. She was sure of 
that, and already felt the sehor’s recovery a matter of 
but a little while. Moreover, to serve others was her 
dearest happiness, and though Fra Sebastian’s faith was 
different from her parents’, she had been trained to know 
all good people as the children of God. And he was 
especially such, for his benefactions and self-sacrifices 
were widespread, and he had been an honored guest at her 
father’s table. 

“Oh ! I am so happy to do anything for so holy a man, 
and I am so glad — so glad we came !” she whispered to 
Ninian, tripping away to relight the little stove and fill her 
kettle afresh. 

“But I must be allowed to help, too, my captain,” he 
returned, eagerly entering into the altered spirit of things ; 
and so m.erry were they over their preparations, so gay 


THE VERDICT. 


219 


What followed astonished Ninian far more than it did 
Jessica, who knew the carpenter’s ways. As tenderly as 
a woman, more tenderly, perhaps, because of his greater 
strength, the old man lifted the injured one and critically 
examined his wound; his face growing graver as he did 
so, yet not losing its expression of confidence and deci- 
sion. When the examination was over, he replaced An- 
tonio on the hard pillow, which had been Pedro’s one 
luxury, and quietly replied to the poor fellow’s unspoken 
question, burning in his great dark eyes : 

“It’s a bad job, my son. A mighty bad job, and a 
sneaky one. I’ve seen such before in my time, and they 
didn’t mean death. To some folks, though, they meant 
what was worse.” 

Nobody would now have recognized the voice which 
uttered this dictum, it had become so infinitely compas- 
sionate and gentle. 

Antonio caught one meaning only: ‘T will not die? I 
need not die ? It is you who will save me, yes ? O'santos 
Diosr 

He had half risen from the bed, but now sank back, ex- 
hausted by the shock of emotion as well as by the physical 
effort ; and Jessica sprang forward, terrified by the sudden 
pallor of his swarthy face. But John put her quietly aside 
and himself placed a flask to Antonio’s lips, saying: 

“You’ve done your part well, my noble little captain, 
and you’ve done me proud. It’s my place now.” 

The senor soon rallied, and again fixed his eyes im- 


220 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


ploringly on Benton’s face, as he sat on the edge of the 
bed beside him. 

“Yes, top-lofty, I promise to help you. But first you 
must help yourself. You must pledge your word, the 
word of a dying man, that he dare not break. You will 
restore everything that you have taken from the mistress 
of Sobrante — or anybody else — so far as it will hereafter 
be in your power ; you shall compel your Brother Ferd to 
guide a party of prospectors to that secret spot in the 
canyon where that piece of copper came from; and you 
shall do all that it is possible to do for the good, and not 
the evil, of your neighbors. That all clear?” 

“But, yes, yes !” whispered Antonio, frantically. 
“Haste! Oh, haste!” 

“I'm a-hasting, but I ain’t a-hurryin’. Which is a good 
thing for you, ’cause so I can think this thing over. That 
ball in your back will have to come out. I’ve taken some 
from folks myself, once or twice, but this one is in a 
ticklish place. A doctor is what we want, and the nearest 
one is ten miles away on Kimball’s ranch. He’d rather 
potter with his roses than other folks’ bullets, and I’ll 
have a tough piece of work to drag him up here, espe- 
cially to see — yon/' 

With an impressive emphasis on the word “you” John 
paused, and waited some rejoinder. None came, and 
though Jessica again exclaimed against the carpenter’s 
contemptuous tone, Antonio neither resented it, nor felt 
it undeserved. Then Benton continued: 

“Sharp, here, is a writin’ fellow, and knows what’s 


ANTONIO'S CONFESSION. 


217 


years to spend in wickedness, if you like. On one con- 
dition” 

Antonio’s eyes almost leaped from his head in amaze 
at this interruption and greater amazement at this as- 
tounding promise ; and John was swift to press his ad- 
vantage : 

‘77/ save your life — on one condition!” 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE VERDICT. 

“Benton !” warned Ninian Sharp, aghast at the audacity 
of a man who would trifle with the apparent death-hour 
of any man. 

“Oh ! that’s all right. Come around and in with me. 
I never yet heard a voice as lusty as that from a dying 
man, and I’ve been acquainted with Senor Bernal some 
little spell. He’s scared nigh to death — it’s just possible 
— but he ain’t sick nor wounded to death, or Fm mistook. 
Come in !” 

Jessica met him at the door, and impulsively threw her 
arms about themi at her relief in their presence. She had 
not been afraid of anything which could harm herself, but 
she had believed the mean’s own statement that he was 
dying, and his suflfering had been evidently intense at 
times. She had been saddened and awe-stricken, and she 
now shared Ninian ’s indignation at the carpenter’s ap- 
parently heartless promise. How was it possible for him 
to bestow life where death had set its seal? 

Nothing abashed by the reproachful looks cast upon 
him, John walked straight to the bed and demanded, in 
the most ordinary tone: 

“Where you hurt, neighbor?” 

Antonio caught at the straw the ranchman seemed to 
extend, and feebly pointed to the wound in his back. 


ANTONIO’S CONFESSION. 


215 


everything else, but go to the canyon cave again he would 
not. 

Indeed Antonio now felt that it was hardly necessary he 
should. The poor lad’s superstition had suggested a bet- 
ter way. With Solano’s aid, the deluded “top-lofty” 
hatched a notable scheme. He would himself impersonate 
Old Century’s uneasy spirit, which could not rest because 
he had betrayed the secret of the ancient padres. Nero 
could be made as white as any ghost horse by the applica- 
tion of a little paint ; and shod with rubber could pass 
over the sandy roads with almost as little noise as any 
spectral steed. It was easy to bribe and terrify two small 
boys into securing and restoring to him the pointed wand, 
even if by their effort to obtain it they might hap- 
pen to fall and break it. That mattered little, however, 
since the point was all that he wanted; but it was' just as 
well to have that money he had seen through the window, 
thst night of his first appearance on Sobmnte grounds. 
That, too, was easy to get if one watched his opportunity 
in that cactus tunnel Ferd had scooped for his brother’s 
convenience. An unsuspecting, busy household left many 
chances for entering an open-windowed room, and who 
had ever been so familiar as he with the supposed safety 
secret place in which the key was kept? With the m.oney 
he had found also the bit of copper Pedro had procured ; 
and he knew enough of mining matters to rejoice, indeed. 
Pie had m.eant to do great things. He would prosecute his 
land claim to the uttermost ; and there were plenty of un- 
scrupulous men who would undertake his cause for a 


236 


JESSICA, THE HBIlWi. 


share in the profits of a copper mine. This very mcsc 
would have been the scene of their first operations. Here 
the mill would have been built, and here 

“But what the use? The hand of punishment is upon 
me, yes. The money, it is there. Ferd shall tell of all 
the rest that he has put somewhere, I know not. His poor 
brain cannot carry out the plan, and to me it avails no 
more. Ay de mi! But Solano — beware. Of some things 
he knows, and of more he suspects, is it not ? Ah ! I 
weary, I languish, I die, I, Antonio Bernal, heir to wealth 
so boundless. It was so fine a plan — so most wonderful 
and simple. The fools, how they feared ! Oh ! the laugh- 
ter I had ! and the wild, wild rides on my so splendid 
ghost horse, yes. But I die — I die ; and the great big plan 
for the copper turned to gold — I — who else will have the 
so great intellect, you call it, to make it real? Well, I 
have done. The stafif I return — useless, save to me. The 
money — I cannot carry whither I must ride on the white 
horse of death — whiter than — the pity ! The pity ! Poor 
Antonio! Poor, poor Antonio!” 

His long talk had, indeed, wearied him to faintness ; but 
while his own tears rained down his cheeks in his self- 
pity, even as Jessica’s in sympathetic sorrow, a cheerful 
and hearty voice cried through the window : 

“Don’t fret yourself, top-lofty ! There’s one or two 
other smart men left, my friend, to carry out that noble 
scheme of yours, and my name ain’t John Benton, if they 
don’t do it! More’n that. I’ll promise you a few more 


ANTONIO'S CONFESSION. 


213 


penter, softly. “And I was right. Fd heard of this spook 
being seen up here, and fool folks layin’ it to poor Old 
Century. That’s why I came. We didn’t make any mis- 
take, did we?” 

Then as they approached nearer to the house and quietly 
dismounted to hobble their horses, he added : 

“Let’s go up sly. Everything seems terrible still, and 
I’d like to take a peek through that back window ’fore we 
let on we’ve come.” 

Ninian was not so cautious; or, rather, he was more 
anxious about the little captain, and protested: 

“How do we know but that this silence means mischief? 
If he has sent for her to harm her ” 

“Hark! She’s all right. Thank God for that. I can 
hear her laughing, and he’s a coward. She isn’t; and, 
anyway, he’d think twice ’fore he hurt a hair of that 
child’s head. Why, man, his life wouldn’t be worth a 
minute’s purchase if he dared ! He’d be hunted to his 
own destruction so quick you couldn’t say ‘scat.’ Humph I 
He may be after mischief — ’cause he hasn’t been after 
anything else since Cass’us died— but he’ll keep within 
bounds. Now, this way. Lucky the grass is thick; but 
even so, don’t tread too heavy. Right behind that rear 
wall, close against the east, is the place to hear all and not 
be seen.” 

Therefore, as noiselessly and hastily as possible, they 
placed themselves within earshot of what was said within 
the house; and the story they heard, reduced to simplest 
facts, was to the effect, as follows; 


214 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


Upon receiving his discharge from legal detention at 
Los Angeles, Antonio had felt a homesick longing for his 
old haunts. He had returned without telling anybody of 
his intention and had taken up his abode at Solano’s ranch, 
where his unfortunate brother and the only person for 
whom he still cared was frequently to be found. There 
the dwarf had joined him, though rambling away again, 
from time to time, on errands of his own of which he 
neither spoke nor was questioned. 

“Money, money ! That’s the one thing, the only thing, 
no! Get money, Ferd, whenever, however, wherever you 
can and what you get you keep. Hear me,” had been 
Antonio’s constant instruction during all the years of the 
hunchback’s life; and to the dwarf’s limited understand- 
ing, his adored brother typified incarnate wisdom. 

He had anticipated high praise when, one day, he came 
back to Solano’s and reported his hiding of the little cap- 
tain in the canyon cave. The praise was not so ready at 
first, for Antonio was astute enough to see whither such 
a hazardous scheme might lead ; but the approbation came 
unstinted when, later, Ferd again appeared, describing 
Pedro’s behavior at the time of the rescue and of the 
curious action of the ancient staff. Sent back alone to 
bring fresh specimens of the mineral Pedro had un- 
earthed, Ferd had suddenly turned stubborn and refused 
to go more than halfway. Pedro had died suddenly, and 
Pedro’s ghost would haunt the spot; no, even Antonio 
should not compel him thither. He would do anything, 


CONCLUSION. 


229 


eyes and face, and with a reasonable prospect that he 
might sonic day be restored to his original ebony hue. Yet 
his spirit seemed broken, as if he had felt the disgrace of 
the part he had been forced to play in the late escapades of 
Antonio and his fellow-conspirators. 

‘‘It’s what one might call the irony of fate that the man 
who caused the death of Comanche should thus be forced 
to supply Comanche’s place with his own beloved Nero,” 
commented the reporter, as the messenger rode away. 

“Yes. Things generally do even up in this world, if a 
body has patience to wait a spell,” answered Samson. 
“And though I’ve no love for him, and wouldn’t trust him 
across this plaza, without watchin’, I can’t help pitying 
poor ‘top-lofty,’ and thinking he was more fool than 
knave. The idee! Them plans and performances of his 
savor more of the ‘middle ages,’ that I’ve heard about, than 
of these days. But it just takes my breath away to think 
of what Sobrante will be, some time, if that ‘find’ in the 
canyon turns out what we imagine. Why — ^but there! 
No use talking. Wait and see. How long you think be- 
fore you get an answer back from the town, tellin’ what 
your friend’ll do?” 

“Oh I I expect Marty will bring that answer. He’s to 
wait an hour or two, you know, and give a chance. If 
Cornell — that’s the expert’s name — is in the city, he’ll 
probably come himself by the evening train. In that 
case, you and I might drive over to meet him.” 

“Wh-e-w!” ejaculated the ex-sailor, astonished. “You 
newspaper fellows beat the world for hustling, don’t you? 


230 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


So quick as that? H’m! If you fly as much sail as that 
so sudden, looks like we^d reach port ahead of time.” 

"‘When a thing’s to be done — why, do it! If there’s 
copper enough to pay for mining, why — mine it,” an- 
swered the other, coolly. 

“Young man, mining costs money. Talkin’ is cheap,” 
retorted Samson, sententiously. 

“Of course. One must put in a little capital if one ex- 
pects to get results, in any business. The money will be 
found easily enough. Trust me to see to that. Or my ^ 
friends and me.” 

Already the journalist was as eager as possible on this 
new matter. His brief rest had restored his overtaxed 
nerves, and he was more than ready to push any enter- 
prise that commended itself to his keen judgment. Now, 
all depended upon the expert’s arrival at the ranch. He 
would then be taken in person to examine the discovered 
vein, and on his opinion great affairs would depend. Yet 
Ninian felt that even if Henry Cornell’s opinion was 
averse, he should not let the subject rest there. He would 
consult with others. Mrs. Trent’s interests must be for- 
warded to the utmost, and no possible chance of her 
realizing a fortune lost through any lukewarmness of his 
own. 

Marty duly returned. He brought the expected mes- 
sage from the great expert, and that gentleman would ar- 
rive at Marion by that very evening’s train. He brought, 
as well, several letters for the ranch mistress, and these 
Jessica joyously carried to her as she sat quietly sewing. 


CONCLUSION. 


231 


Most of them were business communications, which were 
promptly read and laid aside, to be answered at once ; but 
there was one which the mother dropped in her work- 
basket unopened, though it was the thickest and plumpest 
of the lot, and, also, bore the postmark “New York.” In 
ordinary, all New York mail was the most eagerly read 
of all that came; and this fact caused Jessica to exclaim: 

“Why, mother, dear ! Why don’t you read it ? Or are 
you like me when I have something extra nice for dinner, 
leaving it to by and by?” 

“Yes, darling, I’m leaving it — a while. It will keep. I 
know what is in it, or nearly so. It’s not the first of the 
sort has come lately, and I’ll have courage soon.” 

“Courage, mother? Do you need courage to read your 
letters ? What harm can come to us now, out of that far- 
away city? My father’s name is cleared, we owe nobody, 
we — why, we may be going to be very, very rich, if things 

turn out as Mr. Ninian thinks they will turn out, and 

Oh, dear ! I’m not saying it very clear, only seems to me 
we ought to be perfectly, perfectly happy now; and if 
there’s anything bad in the letter, please give it to me, and 
let me burn it up right away.” 

For answer, the mother caught her daughter close 
within her arms, kissed her passionately, and asked : 

“Oh, little captain ! If you go so far from me, how shall 
I live?” 

“I — go so far — from you!” repeated Lady Jess, in utter 
astonishment. “Why, what can you mean?” 

Mrs. Trent recovered her composure, even smiled — if 


232 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


not very gayly — and answered, tenderly: '"Whatever 
come, my sunshine, remember that, of all things, your 
mother desires your welfare before her own. But more 
than that I cannot tell you now. So, run to Aunt Sally, 
dear, and ask if she can be spared from her nursing a few 
hours. I think one of the other men will relieve Ephraim, 
if he is tired, in waiting upon Antonio. I want she should 
help me get up an extra fine supper for Mr. Ninian’s 
friend. Ah! my child, how much we owe to that young 
man’s goodness and enterprise!” 

"Indeed, indeed, we do. But seems to me we do noth- 
ing but cook here, nowadays. It's always company, isn't 
it?” 

"And glad I am of that. So long as the larder has any- 
thing in it, I love to share it with — friends. Not stran- 
gers, who do not care, but with anybody else, the best we 
have. If a luxury, well; and if but a crust, still well. 
Now — to Aunt Sally.” 

Jessica guessed that as soon as she was out of sight the 
disagreeable letter from the other side the continent would 
be promptly read, and wondered not a little concerning its 
contents. And she was right. Mrs. Trent had barely 
finished its perusal, when Mrs, Benton appeared, but from 
her the mother had nothing to hide. She looked up 
quietly, and said: 

"Another more urgent entreaty from old Cousin Mar- 
garet. She puts the matter so strongly as my duty that 
Fm compelled to acknowledge she is — may be — right.” 

“Humph! She's been wrong enough, scMnetimes,” re- 


eoNCLUsiON. 283 

turned Aunt Sally, peevishly. ‘That’s when she got an- 
gry with you for marrying Cass’us.” 

“That was mostly from indignation at losing me, her 
one loved relative. There could never have been a kinder 
guardian ” 

“Nor a queerer, as I’ve gathered from your own talk. 
I never saw Margaret Dalrymple, and I never want to. 
Anyhow, nothin’ can be done at present ; but I’ve brought 
one comfortin’ word across from the quarters with me, 
Gabriella.” 

“What’s that. Aunt Sally? Is Antonio better?” 

“Oh ! bother Antonio. He’ll get well, of course. That 
kind always does. Of that I never had a misdoubt. The 
word is this, and I begin to think that old Fra Sebastian 
may be a real Christian, after all. He not only oilers, but 
he says it must be this way: As soon as ‘top-lofty’ can 
be safely moved, he wants him to the sannytarium to his 
mission. Him and Ferd, the dwarf, likewise. He says 
them old Californys all belong to him, and he will look 
after them. Antonio is to be in the sanny-house, and Ferd 
is to be put into the mission school. Though he’s a man 
in years, he’s a child in learning — ’cept evil. So Fra pro- 
poses to oust the evil if he can — I wager he’ll find he’s got 
a job — and put in good. He’ll make Antonio earn his 
keep a-writin’ up the books and accounts, for, with all his 
silliness, he’s a master hand at figurin’ — for himself. So 
that settles them, and don’t you dast say no to the ar- 
rangement when it’s perposed to you, Gabriella Trent, or 
I’ll never let you hear the last of it. It’s the Lord’s own 


234 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


way of disposing things, and a better one than I could 
cipher out, if I do say it.” 

Certainly Mrs. Trent had no objection to make to so 
comfortable a settlement of a perplexing question ; and in 
due time the Bernals left Sobrante forever; and of their 
lives at the mission those whom they had known so long 
were henceforth to hear little, “and care less,” according 
to the satisfied ranchmen. 

Mr. Cornell, the expert, came, inspected, reserved his 
opinion, and departed; but Ninian Sharp had gathered 
enough from the visitor's few sentences, idly dropped, to 
feel quite convinced that the thing was worth carrying 
farther. So he, too, left Sobrante; but, after a brief so- 
journ in Los Angeles, reappeared, in company with Mor- 
ris Hale and a trio of prospectors, representing much capi- 
tal. All this was very exciting to the simple household; 
and Mrs. Trent, at least, felt infinite relief when, on the 
eve of Navidad, there were left in it only those two stran- 
gers, who had now become less strangers than familiar 
friends. 

Gathered about the fireside, which the first of the rainy 
nights made doubly enticing, the New York lawyer dis- 
cussed at length the decision which the prospectors had 
made. They considered the mine well worth working. 
“In fact, I have reason to believe it will turn out one of 
the richest in the whole country. They are willing to ad- 
vance all money needed upon certain conditions,” and he 
named them. 

These seemed extremely liberal and just to both sides, 


CONCLUSION. 


235 


but Mrs. Trent did not greatly surprise her listeners when 
she quietly interposed a clause to the effect that : 

“My husband believed in profit-sharing. It was his am- 
bition to put Sobrante and its various interests into such 
an operation. I want all our ‘boys’ to enjoy the benefits 
of that which God has given us. They will contribute their 
labor and share in its results; share richly if I can have 
my will.” 

“Your will is doubtless law, madam,” answered Mr. 
Hale, courteously. 

“And if the mine is worked, I want our dear friend, 
Ninian Sharp, to come here and act as its manager, on 
behalf of the Sobrante side. He” — she raised her hand 
gently, as he started to interrupt — “he must be paid a 
much larger salary than he could earn upon the staff of 
the Lancet, and would have, I hope, sufficient leisure time 
to use his pen in other literary work, such as he tells me 
he has never had the chance to do.” 

For the first time in his life, maybe, the alert reporter 
was taken off guard, and hadn’t a word to say, except the 
very ordinary one of “Thank you” ; but he said it, bending 
over the lady’s hand, and with such an expression of de- 
light upon his thin, intellectual face, that no greater elo- 
quence was needed. 

“And now,” said Aunt Sally, “it’s time to begin that 
there decorating which Gabrieli’ thinks is a part of Christ- 
mas. Pasqually’s been real good. He’s been up to the 
dreen, where you planted them calla lilies, Jessie, and he’s 


236 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


fetched a good many bushels. Seven hundred, I guess he 
said. And he’s cut poinsetty enough to turn us blind with 
its redness ; and my boy, John, hitched up and went along 
under the flume and druv his push-cart back full of the 
biggest maidenhair ferns and sweet brakes I ever see. 
So now, youngsters, set to and trim. Then we’ll hang up 
our stockings, every one; and I’ll give you the nicest 
Christmas dinner can be cooked, if I have to cuff Wun 
Lungy into basting them turkeys as they ought to be 
basted. Come, Neddy; come, little Echo; I saw Santy 
Claus' wife — ^that’s me, shove a pan full of gingerbread 
men into the wall oven, and if they’re done, I’ll give each 
of you a soldier of dough to drive you to bed. Stockings 
first ? Of course, of course. Why, what would Christmas 
be without its stockings ? Here’s a brand-new pair auntie’s 
knit for you, one a piece ; and if you don’t find ’em stuffed 
with rods in the morning, it won’t be because you don’t 
deserve it, you precious, precious, naughty little lambs!” 

Off went the good creature, a boy on either arm, her 
patchwork streaming behind her, her spectacles on the top 
of her head, and her ruddy countenance as beaming as if 
she were, indeed, that mythical person — Santa Claus’ wife. 

Oh ! what a Christmas followed ! With everybody from 
far and near who had any claim upon Sobrante hastening 
thither to share its open hospitalities ; Wolfgang and Elsa, 
with their “little” six-foot son; the genial McLeods,, Dr. 
Kimball and his sweet-faced invalid sister, Louise, for 
whose benefit he had left their fine Boston home to live in 
this lonely, lovely southland. These, and many more, not 


fONCLUSlON. 


237 


only came, but did such justice to Mrs. Benton’s and Wan 
Lung’s cookery that, as she said, next morning: 

“Land suz! There ain’t scraps enough left to make a 
decent soup, even ! But never mind, we had a royal time, 
every single soul of us. Christmas is over, and I’m glad 
it’s so well over. Now, we can settle down and rest a 
spell.” 

Indeed, there was rest for the household itself, but not 
for Ninian Sharp and his coadjutors. The mining scheme 
was rapidly put into practical operation ; Mr. Hale linger- 
ing all that winter to further its interests, and to enjoy 
what he had coveted early in his acquaintance with it, a 
few months of ranch life at ideal Sobrante. 

Then came the glorious springtime, when the mesa was 
alive with flowers; the canyon was fragrant with per- 
fume, and the whole countryside became an earthly para- 
dise. The springtime, when the Easterner could no longer 
delay his homeward trip, nor Mrs. Trent the revelation 
of what her New York letters had contained, though Jes- 
sica had almost forgotten them. 

One week before the lawyer was to leave them, mother 
and child sat, hand in hand, beside the father’s grave, 
whither the widow had purposely withdrawn, as if the 
precious dust within might still support and counsel her. 
Taking the little captain’s hand in hers, and speaking as 
calmly as if her heart were not desperately sad, she said : 

“My darling, when Mr. Hale goes home to New York 
you will go with him.” 

^'Mother! Oh! Why?” 


238 


JESSICA, THE HEIRESS. 


'‘Because it is right. My Cousin Margaret, whose let- 
ters you have seen me read, sometimes with ungrateful 
tears, offers you a home and an education. She was a 
mother to me in my youth, and I owe her much. Now 
that she is old and desolate, she begs for you. It may be 
that I should still have declined to please her at so much 
pain to — us, but the discovery of this copper mine of ours, 
and the fact that you will one day be one of America’s 
richest daughters, forces me to comply.” 

"But, why, mother? Why should that matter? Fd 
rather give it up. Say no ! Oh, please, say no !” 

"I cannot now. I dare not. Upon your dear shoulders 
will rest a great trust and responsibility. You must be 
fitted to discharge that trust by the best education pos- 
sible. This education you cannot gain here. You must 
seek it elsewhere. We must not make it harder for each 
other, this bitter parting, but we must bear it bravely for 
— father’s sake.” 

Thus ended Jessica’s early childhood; and of what be- 
fell her in that widely different life at school it must be 
left to another volume to relate. 


THE END. 



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